It’s Not So Dark After All Series
This project is called It’s Not So Dark After All which tries to combine reflections on art, being, life, and the universe. The title is an inspiration from my childhood dream of wanting to be an astronaut and my habit before of taking walks under the night sky and raising my hands towards the heavens.
I remember as a child, I thought of space as just black and white. Maybe in our eyes, it just is, but as I grew older, I realize that yes, we do sense through our eyes, tongue, ears, nose, and skin, but what of feelings, of light, of thoughts, of prayers? Maybe language and communication and understanding are not just in words and in senses but in other things. Like love, energy, breath. Maybe we are here to learn this, the staggeringly beautiful way of being human. Maybe it’s not so dark in space after all.
I once interviewed a black hole. This was the one nearest Earth for it was just in the Milky Way. I asked about the first ever human astronaut who successfully orbited it, who got sucked in but eventually lived to tell the tale. The astronaut said that he had a theory that black holes can spit out things. To prove that, he had to take on this project. Here is an excerpt from one of his journal entries on his flight back to Earth: “I orbited a black hole; it had the power to take me in, to compress me into a single atom. All my flesh, skin, blood, and bones, all my life, my memories, my past, my present, my future, my thoughts, individuality, happiness, worries, anxieties, financial problems, my talents, skills, feelings, and beliefs – everything that I was. Why did I orbit a black hole and get sucked in, you might ask. It can swallow great stars and put an end to galaxies. Its gravity is unimaginably strong that even light cannot escape it. Yet, I was able to. Perhaps, my theory is correct – that if matter was strong enough to resist even the laws of physics, then it could, out of its own sheer and indomitable energy, will itself back into being, back into its original essence. I wonder what I had to have the black hole spit me out.”
I wondered. What could have been so strong against the gravitational force of a black hole? Decades after, humanity found a way to communicate with heavenly bodies, but it wasn’t through words. It was through vibration, waves, and energy, and then it was loosely translated to our limited human language. But when the black hole answered me during our interview, its answer was so simple, something so often overlooked and underestimated in humanity’s past.
“Why did you spit out our astronaut in the year 2140?” I asked from the comfort of the 3rd space station orbiting Earth. .
The black hole answered, but it took a year to translate its message. .
It said, “He had too much hope.”
Infinity
Watercolor, ink, and pastel | 2020
Infinity can mean different things to people.
It can mean numbers to a mathematician, explorations to an astronomer, or a good metaphor to a writer. .
Forever can mean different things to people.
"My love for you goes on forever," one girl would say to a boy. .
"My love for you transcends time," the boy would reply to the girl.
To a third girl in a different galaxy though, forever may sound something like this, "My love for you will never die."
She hopes the boy would hear, but there are a billion stars, a thousand galaxies, and dancing comets between them.
How could he ever hear? How could he ever know?
Still, she says it in the quiet of her space, but she has no one to echo that kind of infinity back to her.
Infinity can mean different things to people.
To some, it can mean possibilities.
To some, it can mean loneliness.
But forever is a long time anyway.
Perhaps there's someone out there for her too.
A Confederation of Moons
Watercolor, ink, and pastel | 2020
There was a girl who was troubled by all that was happening around her. It had caused her physical pain and tension for days, so the confederation of moons, a galactic organization of moons that aims to help humans by orbiting around them, visited the girl in her dream. In the darkness of space, the girl opened her eyes. First there was nothing, and then came the satellites. They circled around her as she held her knees to her chest.
And when she woke up, the darkness of her room greeted her. But when she looked at her hands, her arms, her legs, and her face in the mirror, she saw that she was glowing. Imagine being bathed by the light of four moons...
This didn’t solve the problems around her, but it made her feel seen and understood. She wasn’t alone in what she felt about the state of things.
For the moons are listening,
for the moons are listening.
Something
Watercolor, ink | 2018
Was there nothing or was there something – something so beautiful, strong, and impossible yet believable to have sent the ball of gas exploding, cascading, expanding – that turned nothing to something to everything she ever knew about her self, others, her world, the galaxies, and the whole universe? The ball could not contain such enthusiastic energy, and so it burst, across space, across time. And at the center, she saw herself, wailing and screaming and then sleeping like a child. Was this how we came into being – from big bangs and wombs to world? Or have we been here in a different form already, as one soul, and then consciousness and identity let us be an individual, one person? She learned that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. She wondered were we we the same? She believed that all this around her cannot just come from nothing. But Something. Someone.
The Sun is a Star
Watercolor, ink | 2018
The sun is a star, she thought. How did she get the planets to surround her, to accompany her? The only one that went around her was her three-year-old son, and she wondered if he turned a year older every time he held onto his Momma’s dress and spun and spun around her. She wondered if she could get him in orbit as well whenever he would be his adventurous self, dashing here and there, scraping knees, branding elbows with wounds, covering skin with bandages. She was his sun. She wished she wouldn’t be a red giant at all like our solar system’s sun and get bigger and bigger; she didn’t want to be the one who would hurt her darling child when she says it’s time for her to go. If the sun were conscious too, she wondered, does she care about her children, the planets, the ones she gives light and warmth to? The sun is a star, our one and only in this life, on this Earth. Was there a way for her to feel we loved her?
Defense
Watercolor, ink | 2018
They knew that evil does exist. They never ignored it and turned a blind eye to it. This is why they were given weapons – weapons like art, fellowship, poetry, good thoughts, and love – to fight it. There was no use pretending that there was no darkness; they see it everyday not just in the people who were branded as corrupt, bad, or immoral, but in themselves as well. They could easily make the wrong choices too, however, they did not want to. They chose to wield weapons but not the same weapons as the dark force’s, for a dark pawn cannot overthrow a dark king. So they raised their hands heavenward and pushed all the bad energy out, like a gust of wind driving out the smoke that chokes. This was Earth’s mighty defense.
Choice
Watercolor, ink | 2018
The towering flowers could either look exactly as they are: flowers. But the paint dripped further down, and it looked like missiles heading towards earth.’ This is what her teacher told her. She wanted to paint flowers – who would even want to create destructive things? These are flowers, she told her teacher, that the people of Earth planted. They hoped they would grow so tall that everyone on Earth can see them up high. Imagine seeing these beautiful things, she said. And then her teacher responded, ‘You chose that which is beautiful and creative. Others may choose what is otherwise. They can make art that is not bad per se, but they can make art that instead of giving hope, they give a hollow feeling, that there’s nothing good to believe in or hope for anymore.’ She looked down at her hands. If one is given a gift, would she not use them for good? She hoped that she could be the kind of artist who can inspire people to choose beauty and kindness, to draw flowers on weapons, to only shower petals from the sky instead of fire, smoke, and debris. Choice is a powerful thing. She prayed that she may use it wisely.
Singularity
Watercolor, ink | 2018
Imagine what we could do together, he said. But I told him that there were so many things against our coming together. Between us were planets, space, time, distance – things that were impossible to cross. On my journey to him, I asked him, what if I get pulled into a black hole, into its center, into gravitational singularity – what would you do? He said to me, words I could hear in my mind and feel within my chest: they say the laws of physics cease to work there in singularity. Perhaps what was initially against us will be for us in time.
This set me on the beginning of my journey; little did I know, our meeting was earlier than expected. All this time, I thought I was the only one trying to reach him, to float while avoiding dust particles and comets, to pass through dimensions, but in reality, he was also moving. Faster than I was. After a few years, we finally saw each other in person in the gap of two large planets.
I was surprised to see him there, his hands reaching for me at a far distance. I reached out for him too. Space and time can be tricky out here; although we were seeing one another for the first time, we cannot hold each other not until a few more years, a few more miles. Imagine the longing I felt, seeing him there but not being able to touch him after time had its way with us.
And then, after what felt like billions of years, here we were, hands almost touching. In between us, there were no more planets, space, time, or distance. I could only see a spark, a possibility. When our hands finally touched and our fingers intertwined, I knew that together, we could birth stars and raise planets. His hands were warm after a long travel. He said that his mentor told me that one dip in singularity can possibly make one travel a few miles faster. But it can also just be a leap into nothingness. I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t test it first either. I went through a black hole to get to you sooner.
He held me close, gravity allowing us this moment. When at first, I thought there was no effort or will, this man went through a black hole just for us to meet. But time still had its way with us. I may not last longer than you will, for there were some adverse effects on my body, he said. I looked at him in part shock, part disbelief. One full day with you like this is enough to fare my soul well into heaven, he whispered. We travelled years to be together, but I realize we had always been in one another’s presence. Something strong, true, and real became our bridge across the universe. When he said goodbye and let go of my hands, I swore the planets around us broke the deepest sigh.
Pluto wants you to know he’s okay
Watercolor, ink | 2018
So here we are from nine to eight. He wanted comfort, because he was hurt; they said he couldn’t dominate his neighborhood, he couldn’t lead, he couldn’t carry his own name and recognition. He once thought he was one of them, but maybe he belonged somewhere else. He didn’t have to be big or dominate the neighborhood around his orbit, he just had to be who he really was. Somewhere nearby, there is the nice man we knew and loved because we grew up with him and read about him in textbooks, until one day, he was demoted to something less, and people no longer knew or cared about him.
So here we are from nine to eight; we threw him a lifebuoy ring, and I gave him a flower on the night we heard the news. And he told us with gratitude that he was okay, that he accepted it all, that he was still completely happy because he’s still going around the city hall where someone he loves worked at. Lastly, he swore he heard his nearby neighbor that his friends missed him dearly, and that they believed that true friendship transcends titles, names, positions, and status.
So here we are from nine to eight. Numbers are just numbers; he will always be there. Pluto wants us to know he’s okay.