Magical Realism

Twenty some years ago, when I lived in Asheville, NC, I came across a book written by an editor for Scientific American. To paraphrase, he argued in the book that science is peaking, that there would be fewer scientific, and most likely less dramatic, new scientific discoveries on into the future. It made sense to me at the time.

Interestingly, as I left the bookstore I overheard a conversation that two young men were having. They were discussing this very same book. They asserted that the author of the book did not know what he was talking about. Were these two young men aghast that someone, who should know better, would question the orthodox canon of our modern age, that science will resolve every mystery set before us? And take us to the stars?

There is the Fermi paradox. Where are the aliens?Where are the super advanced aliens showing up at our earthly doorstep to welcome us into their utopian galactic confederacy (not the dubious slipping through the back door to play footsie with our military)? What if this modern age of ours is about as good as it gets? Maybe a furtive moon base? And for what? Space is a lonely frontier. As our modern age, this age of oil, wanes, and the energy and raw materials we require for our dreams and way of life become more difficult to come by, an ancient sun will set on a brief and curious era of the human drama. In retrospect that was the assertion of the author of the book I had perused some years ago. Perhaps this is the way of any intelligent, alien species: A brief moment on a faraway world, intoxicated with oil, or whatever, and having their own personal Fermi paradox moment before the sun sets.

This is a perspective, what I see when looking out the proverbial window from my creative space at our modern world all around us. Every day can be a day of wonder, to be in a world so transient, even fragile, when in a thousand years it will be a legend. And beyond the bright lights and sunlit countenance of this view there is a context for all of this. A great mystery. This is where the journey begins, to celebrate the mystery while getting lost with a paintbrush. Even to find a joy in not knowing what I’m doing on a canvas is to remain open to what might come my way. To play, while under the spell of serendipity.

My creative space is on this earth. This is our home. This is all we have: This incredibly thin film of life covering a large, spherical rock hurtling through space. Magical realism expresses the journey into the depths of this thin film, perhaps more deep than that of the cosmos. To travel to the stars is to stand on a mesa, to experience the cosmos in the woods, and in so many other ways. And lastly, it’s in this journey I find solace.