The Future Ain't What it Used to Bee

Top picture:  Evie and her gang working on restoring a tail at Weeki.

 Ken, Karen, Chris, and Frank, my buddies from the 'hood.  Never stop!  Just don't.

Here is a picture of two great gals (did manysisters just say "gals"?) that I went exploring with a few weeks ago, DonnaJean and Mary/Molly 

I love to go a-wandering, along the mountain path,

and as I go, I love to sing

my  knapsack on my back.

Val dereeeeeee, Val deraahhhhhh,

Val dereeeeeee, Val der ah hah hah hah ha ha ha ha ha.  Yeah.

And speaking of the future...I am in the middle of a great read--"October the First is Too Late", by Prof Fred Hoyle.  Written in the early 60's, it is a novel about the concept of time as a spiral, of paradoxes and choices.  And British perseverance.  Arthur C. Clarke and he were contemporaries, and I have to believe their paths crossed in many ways.  Clarke wrote a variation on that theme with his Time's Eye series.  If you have seen  "2001 A Space Odyssey" note that this book is at a right angle to it...anyway, very interesting stuff, and now I am a huge fan.

  I like the hard science in Sci Fi, but also the social side, the implications, the  prophesies, the possibilities.  Jack McDevitt is a favorite because he leaves the heavy science as a given a lot of the time, instead raising questions about what our expectations are of exploration and the nature of alienness.  Is there such a word? Hope so.  He has a series with a pilot, Priscilla Hutchins,  that makes the universe even bigger!  I would get on board one of Hutch's flights any day.  Kim Stanley Robinson is another great author.  Grounded in science, reads like Tom Wolfe in some ways, always putting planetary environmental  concerns in an intriguing storyline, complete with political and social scenarios and all wrapped up in a well thought out package.  I would start  with Red Mars.  

Zenna Henderson.  If you haven't read her "People" stories, you are in for a treat.  Not like ice cream, but like something that satisfies a craving that is good for you, too.  Having evacuated a dying planet, the People are bound for a new Home when some groups and individuals fall to earth in the 1800s.  Witch hunts, separations, psychological challenges.  Like "Escape from Witch Mountain" with intelligence.  Think Quakers that can levitate, with out the Quaker thing.

So I am moving forward on the mural, getting ready for the Tom Varn Show.  Right now I am going through a dictatorship phase, where I get to be the dictator/director, possibly alienating  anyone who gets in my way.  Must be that Queen Bee thing.  Ohhhhhhh I feel a buzz coming on!

Stop me now before I get bossy again!

Your Queen thanks you.  Kindly disregard that last request.

When Nothing is Everything

Above is a picture taken from my cellphone at Pine Island.  Hmmmmmmmmmmmm

Here is part of a story I am working on.  I like to try my hand at Sci Fi now and then.  Not the techy kinda writing, but more the concept driven stuff.  My favorite writers walk that line with grace.  Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars and Beltway books, Jack McDevitt's anything (the man can do no wrong) or anything by Arthur C. Clarke.  I also like Syne Mitchell, who is also a fiber artist and makes me jealous twice.  

When Nothing is Everything 

Having arrived at the Desert World at night, I was unprepared for the mind-burning brightness of the uncompromising morning light.  The windows of my lodge were unfiltered as on Earth, and there was no mercy in the illumination.  Originally I had planned on a casual vacation with an island theme-- palm trees, flowers,  surfing, and grass skirts shushing in the breeze.  But then the cacaphony of the real world intruded and I knew that my solace could be better guaranteed by quiet.  So there I lay, half under the sheets with my arms across my face, hoping my present plan wasn't a big mistake.  Eventually the glaring starburst in my lids subsided and I opened my eyes to the view outside.  The agent wasn't kidding when he said desert.  Except for the tracks still visible leading to my accommodations, the view was devoid of anything but rocks and sand.  

Desert World had been settled- a term I use very loosely- by a team of terraformers, that is, people who make planets habitable like Earth by introducing ecosystems and modeling them like, well, Terra, or Earth.  The job turned out to be overwhelming.  Asteroid miners were on strike, supply ships were too sparse after the lunar outpost on Phobos had been wiped out, and there wasn't much interest in planet renovation now that the new galaxy class drives were operational.  So some of the team moved on and a few stayed out here for the principle of it.  Extracting water and building farms slowly, they supplemented their supplies and income with tourism.  Lucky me...

I opted for this journey, this spirit walk, this leave of absence because I just couldn't take the neverending assault of home any more.  All the communicating. It just wouldn't quit!  Night and day, the texting, buzzing, ringing, whispers, demanding I pay attention to every detail or I would pay dearly for having missed , I dunno, what?  There was always a prompt sounding for me to acknowledge, people to pay,  sporting events, rejuvenation appointments, holo conferences.  I was pulled in every direction and I was drowning at the same time.  I couldn't sleep , my hearing was going downhill from all the attachments and I was constantly running into things when my appointment alarms went off.  Enough.  So I figured I should check out of it and get some peace.  Put an end to the chaos and just listen to my thoughts for a while...

After a lean breakfast of coffee and some kind of dry fruit, I geared up for a look-see outdoors.  I had been deposited at the door  and whisked inside--almost sucked inside the entryway by my driver the night before after an eerie whistling ride down from orbit.  From there it was just a matter of unpacking and looking for the bar, which, thankfully, was next to the bed.  Just water and an alcoholic jelly thing like the shooters my ancestors got so nostalgic about.  A few of those with some nuts from the flight down and I was out.    Now it was time to see the visible quiet I had imagined and put my savings into.  With my heart beating a quickening drumroll, I ventured out the door.

Til next time....