My father is a physics and astronomy professor. I remember growing up, he would frequently take us to the university and let us peek through the large telescopes that were mounted onto the roofs. We had front row seats to solar eclipses, and he would often bring home this big and bulky telescope he had special access to when we would have parties. I remember being embarrassed when my dad would lug this giant metal thing out and start calling people over to look at Jupiter and Venus, but everyone loved it. We’d be out there much longer looking at stars than doing anything else.
I would get so frustrated as a kid when my dad would take advantage of the canyons and lack of city lights during road trips. He would pull over and stand on the side of the road, just gazing at the stars that shined so brightly with no street lights or neon signs to out glow them.
I can’t blame him now. If you ever have a moment when you’re far from glaring city lights on a clear, dark night, take a few moments and watch the sky. It’s absolutely worth every second.
Those memories were really my inspiration for this piece. I suppose that’s one reason why I got a little frustrated creating it. There is no way, at least for me and my talents at this point, to recreate the vastness, the beauty, and the emotion of a brilliant starry sky. I couldn’t do it. The only thing I could put on canvas were cheap imitations of colors, of sparkles, of clusters of stars (globular clusters- I’ve always remembered that word, thanks to my dad.) I was really trying not to be critical, but man, it was tough.
By itself, though, this canvas does have some great colors. I just love this dark blue, with the splatters of gold. I stamped some images on rice paper to add a human element to my piece- a reminder of how we use the stars to chart courses and find our way. A symbol as well for how we look above for guidance and meaning.
I used clusters of my quilled pieces, thinking of nebula’s forming stars and supernovas destroying them. There is so much to think about when I think of the stars- creation from destruction, mysteries of God and of science, and my own place in this ginormous universe. I wish I could have put all those thoughts and questions, and more, into this piece- I’m just going to have to keep practicing.
I love this. When we get to a point where I have any extra money I would love to purchase this piece to display in my home. You did a fabulous job! It grabbed me as I was scrolling through your images. :) Keep up the good work! If you have any gallery showings this summer, I would love to come to one! It makes me happy to see you, and anyone, creating from the heart. It is touching. The story behind this made me love the piece even more. P.S. I don’t think I ever got a peek at the telescope! ;)
I could totally get lost in the world you have created here.
Anjuli, thank you for sharing those thoughts. Above all, parents need charity for what is truly important in life, the faith to live that truth unambiguously in spite of opposition and discouragement, and the patience and hope that our children will eventually catch on and figure it out for themselves. I was converted to astronomy much as the people I taught as a Mormon missionary in Mexico City were converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was at a low point in my life, at the end of a temporary research position at WVU and with no real job offers in spite of many many job applications, when the physics department Chair offered me the opportunity to teach a general science astronomy class. I knew very little about astronomy, but was so happy to have a job to help me provide for my family that I was willing to learn it and teach it. When I started studying ernestly, it was as if the whole universe suddenly opened up to my view. That bright star in the sky I saw as I walked home those late fall evenings was now Jupiter, and it had four large moons orbiting it that Galileo had been able to observe with his home-made telescope and use to prove that the Earth was not the center of the universe. The dark patches in the Milky Way were now vast clouds of dust hiding the core and disk of our own galaxy, remnants of billions of dead stars accumulated over billions of years, and the soil of new population II stars with enough heavy-metal enrichment for solid planet formation, including our own solar system and Earth. The starlight was now chock-full of scientific information about the formation and history of our stellar ancestors and the continuing evolution of our own corner of the garden. So when I stopped and stared up at the stars during our road trips, I was renewing personal revelation. And when I set up the telescope, I was sharing my testimony of our own existance, the truthfulness of God and His love for His children.
The art piece you are displaying is truly magnificent and appealing, not because it is a good recreation of what we see in space on a really dark night, but because it is a good recreation of your personal revelation, your own personal journey of discovery. Just as science uses ordinary everyday objects llike springs and balls to crudely describe observable aspects of nature as a means of contemplating and understanding the unobservable magnificence of a vast orderly universe , just as the unobservable eternal nature of God is contemplated and reached for using crude and faulty descriptions of observable human nature provided by prophets in sacred records, so too does your art rely on crude materials to convey what is unobservably found within you. I wish I had the motivation to discover that world that you are now studying and learning to share. For now, I will learn to love what you so evidently love, via your handiwork. Thank you for diligently stopping by the side of your road to bask in the personal revelations of your own discoveries and patiently allow us to figure it out for ourselves.
With eternal love, Dad