Tag: airplanes

Transatlantic Transitions

Aboard a transatlantic aircraft, on a western-bound red eye flight, the sun does not ever rise. Those pastel rainbow glowing rays do not ever pinnacle the horizon.  It is nighttime for 18 straight hours as we collectively hide from the sun.

We are vampires in a plastic flying coffin, afraid even of the illumination from a small orb reading light situated above. It is icy cold, a fitting temperature for the cult of the undead. In the absence of fresh food, we eat things out of plastic, on tiny trays with plastic cutlery, sip tiny amounts of water out of individual plastic cups. The choice is limited to meat protein or veg, and what is under the foil wrapping, what lays on that semi-warm plastic shell is anyone’s guess.

In order to cross the mighty Atlantic in the span of one day, I will happily morph into a vampire, I will skip a day of seeing the sun, I will greedily eat my allotted plastic foods, I will freeze and undergo frequent muscle spasms because the seats are more uncomfortable the a coffin buried underneath the cold earth, long forgotten by anyone except a few close loved ones.

They stopped at improving the design of the aircraft seat, leaving it to be more uncomfortable than decade old Ikea furniture because vampires don’t have feelings, vampires don’t deserve luxury. They should cut out the whole chair concept and stack us in coffin-like boxes for the journey. Just hand out straws and we can go without the whole sitting upright concept.


Art and Science in the City’s Sky

I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the modern night, by the complacent dance of airplanes in the big, open, uninhabited sky.  I am astounded by the unnatural movements that dominate the once whimsical night.  The crafted zig zag pattern of overhead headlights feels like science fiction eerie in harmony, amazing with the complete overhaul of world above.

Nature has been transformed away from lure of the night sky mystery into a different meaning here in the heart of the city.

The patterns of the airplanes are distinctive, not abstract like the twinkle of the starry night.  Art is about making mistakes, science does not understand this concept.  Art is messy and bold, physics is well defined and stubborn with its limits.  Science has definitive rules, natures is creative in breaking these carefully ordered and well orchestrated structures of definition.

It barren up there now, in the lonely sky, save for the flying machines.  Modernity and technology may be convenient, but they lack the luster of the dreaming night, the spontaneity of the stars spark, the complexity of astrology’s secrets, the depth of the canvas that looms above.  The nation of galaxies that had been a part of humanity’s eye is now a series of dashes.