Το σύμπαν της τέχνης και οι τέχνες τ' ουρανού

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Otherworld 23, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Firefly Party Cluster, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Ghost of Jupiter, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 2, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 12, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Hubbles Double Bubbles, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 4, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Diablo Nebula, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 13, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 9, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Otherworld 24, Sue Jimenez

 

Πολυμερής πηλός

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Song of Honor, Ralph Hodgson, 1913

 

I stood and stared; the sky was lit,

The sky was stars all over it,

I stood, I knew not why,

Without a wish, without a will,

I stood upon that silent hill

And stared into the sky until

My eyes were blind with stars and still

I stared into the sky.

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When you wish upon a star, FunnyJunk, 2010

 

Et on tuera tous les piétons?

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A Glimpse of CLIMSO, Alain Sallez, 2011

 

APOD 25/11/11

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Stars, Maxfield Parrish, 1926

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Και μία εκτός θέματος αφιέρωση στο τηλεσκόπιό μου, την Κατερίνα, που εορτάζει σήμερα και όχι μόνο αυτό. Χρόνια Πολλά.

 

Διαλέξτε:

 

 

River Deep, Mountain High, Spector, Greenwich/Barry, 1966

 

When you were a young girl

Did you have a rag doll

The only doll you've ever owned

Now I'll love you just the way you loved that rag doll

Only now my love has grown

 

It gets stronger as the river flows

Deeper baby, heaven knows

Higher, as it goes

 

Do I love you, my oh my

River Deep, Mountain High, yeah, yeah, yeah

Do I love you, would I cry

Oh I love you baby, how I love you baby

 

When you were a young girl

Did you have a puppy

That always followed you around

Well I'm gonna be as faithful as that puppy

No I'll never never let you down

 

Cos it gets stronger as the river flows

It gets deeper baby, heaven knows

It gets higher, so much higher, as it goes

 

Do I love you, my oh my

River Deep, Mountain High, yeah, yeah, yeah

Do I love you, would I cry

Oh I love you baby, how I love you baby

 

I love you baby like a flower loves a spring

I love you baby like a robin likes to sing

I love you baby like a schoolboy likes his pie

And oh I love you baby, River deep, Mountain high

 

 

Do I love you, my oh my

River Deep, Mountain High, yeah, yeah, yeah

Do I love you, would I cry

Oh I love you baby, how I love you baby

[terring]

When you wish upon a star, FunnyJunk, 2010

 

Et on tuera tous les piétons?

 

Πολύ σκληρό αυτό, σαν να μα λέει "τα όνειρα είναι πεταμένος χρόνος, άρα ζείτε κλαίγοντας τη μοίρα σας"

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Shuttle Plume Shadow Points to the Moon, Pat McCracken, NASA, 2001

 

APOD 27/11/11

 

Παραθέτω την πολύ ενδιαφέρουσα επεξήγηση.

 

Why would the shadow of a space shuttle launch plume point toward the Moon? In early 2001 during a launch of Atlantis, the Sun, Earth, Moon, and rocket were all properly aligned for this photogenic coincidence. First, for the space shuttle's plume to cast a long shadow, the time of day must be either near sunrise or sunset. Only then will the shadow be its longest and extend all the way to the horizon. Finally, during a Full Moon, the Sun and Moon are on opposite sides of the sky. Just after sunset, for example, the Sun is slightly below the horizon, and, in the other direction, the Moon is slightly above the horizon. Therefore, as Atlantis blasted off, just after sunset, its shadow projected away from the Sun toward the opposite horizon, where the Full Moon just happened to be.

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Astronomy Cake, Benja, 2007

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The Great Bear, John Hollander, 1958

 

Even on clear nights, lead the most supple children

Out onto hilltops, and by no means will

They make it out. Neither the gruff round image

From a remembered page nor the uncertain

Finger tracing that image out can manage

To mark the lines of what ought to be there,

Passing through certain bounding stars, until

The whole massive expanse of bear appear

Swinging, across the ecliptic ; and, although

The littlest ones say nothing, others respond,

Making us thankful in varying degrees

For what we would have shown them. "'T'here it is !"

"I see it now !" Even "Very like a bear !"

Would make us grateful. Because there is no bear

We blame our memory of the picture : trudging

Up the dark, starlit path, stooping to clutch

An anxious hand, perhaps the outline faded

Then ; perhaps could we have retained the thing

In mind ourselves, with it we might have staged

Something convincing. We easily forget

The huge, clear, homely dipper that is such

An event to reckon with, an object set

Across the space the bear should occupy;

But even so, the trouble lies in pointing

At any stars. For one's own finger aims

Always elsewhere: the man beside one seems

Never to get the point. "No ! The bright star

Just above my fingertip." The star,

If any, that he sees beyond one's finger

Will never be the intended one. To bring

Another's eye to bear in such a fashion

On any single star seems to require

Something very like a constellation

That both habitually see at night ;

Not in the stars themselves, but in among

Their scatter, perhaps, some old familiar sight

Is always there to take a bearing from.

And if the smallest child of all should cry

Out on the wet, black grass because he sees

Nothing but stars, though claiming that there is

Some bear not there that frightens him, we need

Only reflect that we ourselves have need

Of what is fearful (being really nothing)

With which to find our way about the path

That leads back down the hill again, and with

Which to enable the older children standing

By us to follow what we mean by "This

Star," "That one," or "The other one beyond it."

But what of the tiny, scared ones ? -- Such a bear,

Who needs it ? We can still make do with both

The dipper that we always knew was there

And the bright, simple shapes that suddenly

Emerge on certain nights. To understand

'I'he signs that stars compose, we need depend

Only on stars that are entirely there

And the apparent space between them. There

Never need be lines between them, puzzling

Our sense of what is what. What a star does

Is never to surprise us as it covers

'I'he center of its patch of darkness, sparkling

Always, a point in one of many figures.

One solitary star would be quite useless,

A frigid conjecture, true but trifling;

And any single sign is meaningless

If unnecessary. Crab, bull, and ram,

Or frosty, irregular polygons of our own

Devising, or finally the Great Dark Bear

'I'hat we can never quite believe is there -

Having the others, any one of them

Can be dispensed with. The bear, of all of them,

Is somehow most like any one, taken

At random, in that we always tend to say

That just because it might be there ; because

Some Ancients really traced it out, a broken

And complicated line, webbing bright stars

And fainter ones together; because a bear

Habitually appeared -- then even by day

It is for us a thing that should be there.

We should not want to train ourselves to see it.

The world is everything that happens to

Be true. The stars at night seem to suggest

The shapes of what might be. If it were best,

Even, to have it there (such a great bear !

All hung with stars !), there still would be no bear.

[kkokkolis]

The Big Bang Theory, Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady, 2007

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The Astonomer by Vermeer Concept, Tim Zhao, 2010

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9 Nebulas, Alizey Khan, 2011

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Nebula Triptych; Lagoon, Horsehead, Orion, , Alizey Khan, 2011

 

Ακρυλικό

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Carina Nebula Shoes, Alizey Khan, 2011