So, some of you know that I’ve finished this manuscript titled SOLAR MAXIMUM, which in some sections imagines how solar disruptions can lead to incredible transformations in our psyches. I’ve obviously been incredibly interested in solar studies for the past few years, as well as cryogenics research, visions of the apocalypse, etc.

My husband rented the Danny Boyle film Sunshine, recently, for me to watch. I actually hadn’t EVER seen it, despite my interests. He told me that the first half of the film is incredibly beautiful, and the second half stinks. We watched the first half, up until the huge fire. I don’t think I need to watch anymore, because one scene utterly destroyed me.

I don’t think I can watch the rest, anyway, after having seen that scene. It’s deadly gorgeous, the immensity of it. It’s the spirit of so much I’ve been contending with intellectually and also emotionally these days. It’s impossible to have an intellect before it.

Sometimes in the face of this kind of experience, I can get a bit dejected about writing. I have to remind myself that my path is a bit different, and I have other tools available to me. I just have to find more of them. For example, one of my projects for SOLAR MAXIMUM was to pay homage to my favorite book, Stanislaw Lem’s Solaris, without simply restating it, but make it again new, perhaps able to speak in a new voice. I’m pretty happy with what worked out…


A devastation of unknown magnitude

To the small star inside, we set up a makeshift rotation that gives us each a momentary relief. Watching is a rudimentary course of action, and we detail each thought as it appears. This is a gentle activity, despite the aggressiveness of the surround. A thought is the beginning of an opening, and we work diligently to trace its aperture, the outline of its extent. When he tells us he simply doesn’t know and is unable to track any origins, we recognize the rotation has failed. The small star inside is an obvious integer, but to this he has become blind.

Our job is simple but can lead to a devastation of unknown magnitude. The inconclusiveness of feelings that arise move with a heat and dynamism analogous to the surface of the sun. In the end, our documents amount to the need for a primary mother. One member of our party becomes obsolete.

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