NASA Data Sonification: Black Hole Remix

isn't she beautiful ?

This is the first image of Saturn's ultraviolet aurora taken by the Space Telescope Imaging Spectrograph (STIS) on board the Hubble Space Telescope in October 1997, when Saturn was a distance of 1.3 billion kilometers from Earth.

Image Credit: NASA/JPL/STScI

the world needs more butch4butch trans4trans eroticism, so have this sketch of some butch cowboys (feelin’ all manner of things they cannot say…)

imagination

imagine the world we could create

together

if we collected ourselves

and put us aside

to make space for others

imagine what we could build

together

if we worked for ourselves

and put time aside

to make life for others

imagine what we could accomplish

together

if we overthrew ourselves

and put our armies aside

to make peace for others

HAPPY STAR TREK DAY! 🖖

STAR TREK premiered in the United States on the 8th of September, 1966 with the episode "The Man Trap". Today, over 900 episodes across 12 tv and streaming series, as well as 13 feature films have been released, with more still in various stages of production.

terra

i remember the first time i saw her. she defended my honor shortly after. i have loved her ever since.

i knew better than to be in that bar alone. but this was a manic phase for me so all bets were off. i was using again, and doing my best to maintain a social life without many friends. and for once, i excelled. at least by my own standards. this night that meant drinking with my lonesome in a random dive.

i had never patronized this particular establishment. but there were bikes out front so i knew what to expect. at least i thought i did. i could never have anticipated that i would walk into her life on this night of all nights. a moonless night nonetheless.

the very moment i stepped inside i noticed her. curls as red and voluminous as hers are hard to miss. i was instantly consumed by layers of reactive emotion: lust, envy, insecurity, pride, panic. it took all of my attention not to show every racing thought on my face. i sat at the bar with my back to the pool tables, where she talked and laughed with her biker friends. i thought it best to keep her out of sight and out of mind.

i drank quickly that night. i was uncomfortable and i knew i stood out, but i had enough experience fitting myself in where i didn’t belong that i was ultimately unconcerned. being noticeable was unavoidable and i assumed myself capable of managing the unwanted attention. of course a few men tried talking to me; i did what i could to entertain them but i didn’t have the energy. after a couple more drinks that i did not pay for, one man pushed his luck. and i pushed back. not literally, not yet. he stood too close and breathed too heavy. he tried to ask about my braids and my jewelry, presumably in a lame attempt to connect with me over something personal. i suppose it is not a despicable tactic, but i despised it. i had no patience to explain my culture to a white man, or to bear the inevitable microaggressions. but i had been trapped and was feeling sassy after a couple drinks, so of course i had to call him out as soon as he asked about my blood quantum. i don’t care to relive that conversation, but i’ve often relived the following moments.

as his tone shifted from inquisitive to offended to offensive, others began to notice. i hadn’t the sense or sobriety to de-escalate, and like i said this was one of my manic phases. so i mocked, and he yelled, and before i could comprehend what i had gotten myself into i had to get myself out. but for once i couldn’t see an exit. and that’s when she came to my rescue. when i heard a woman’s voice interject from behind me, i swiveled in my bar stool and found myself face to face with a goddess. a goddess of war nonetheless, with a face so full of freckles and fury that i was instantly disarmed.

they seemed to have history. they seemed to have pre-existing beef. but either way she was as committed to escalation as i had been only a moment before. she told him not to waste his time, she told him to leave me alone, she told him to go back to fucking mannequins, whatever that meant. he called her a bitch and a dyke and she kept her cool. but as soon as tranny had left his lips i heard glass shatter. next was all of a flash of light to me. a sudden commotion and i was dragged from the bar. i thought i was carrion, but it had been devotees of my new savior that gotten me out of there. it was a relief, and in my one glance back at the brawl that had ensued i was filled with gratitude. this was just as immediately interrupted by the roar of motorcycle, and as if i had died in that bar and gone to heaven, i turned once again to my newfound idol, now revving her engine and gesturing me to mount her steed behind her. i hesitated for the smallest moment, maybe because i didn’t believe my luck or maybe to capture a clear image i could return to once my luck ran up. im glad i took that moment. 

it lingered in my mind’s eye for some time, and before i knew what had happened or how to feel i was holding onto a total stranger for dear life. as we sped down a empty freeway, cold air cutting into my watery eyes, i buried my face into her soft curls. i realized that i was wearing her helmet, that she had sacrificed her own safety several times over to secure mine. there are no words in the english language that can adequately express the gratitude i felt in that moment. it was all i could do to hold on with every string of every atom of my being, thankful to feel safe for the first time in my life.

**********

her name is Terra, she told me. a gorgeous name, did she pick it herself i asked. she did not, she was named for her mother.

she took me to her apartment. told me it’d be a calm place for me to sober up. i certainly didn’t mind. especially not after seeing it. i had no expectation of something luxurious or tidy or well decorated, and in that sense it met my expectations. but it was her domain and i was in awe. i took in every detail, eager to learn what i could about my new hyperfixation. a large mattress on the floor with perfectly disheveled sheets, a whiteboard displaying chemical equations, plants everywhere. an impeccably neat kitchen, a disheveled record collection, no visible closet. stacks of books. a dozen candles. empty wine bottles. only one chair. we sat together on the floor on her bed. this made me nervous.

but she wasn’t tense and that put me at ease a bit. she wasn’t talkative either, and i think ultimately that’s what intimidated me. i wanted to interrogate her motivations for helping me, but i thought it best not to push my luck. she seemed unphased by the whole evening and i tried my best to mimic her stoicism.

i helped bandage her hand. she had cut it on the broken glass she shoved into that man’s face. she asked where i learned first aid. so i told her about my years as a boy scout, growing up in Colorado. learning to survive the harsh winters without resources. learning to braid hair and sing songs and practice witchcraft. she laughed at that.

she asked me if i had any new moon rituals. i didn’t; i grew up a sun worshiper. she insisted we do hers together. she made me a cup of tea, offered me bread. i hadn’t realized i was so hungry and when she told me she made it herself, i certainly couldn’t decline. she lit candles and incense and told me that i didn’t need to say prayers but i needed to keep quiet while she said hers. afterwards she put on a Dexter Gordon record and we resumed conversation, much to my delight.

i told her i envied the density of her freckles and her curl pattern. it was tighter than mine. i told her about my stay in the hospital after my first attempt. about the 2spirit elder who gave me guidance when i wanted it least and needed it most. how they told me that my freckles were blessings from the sun. each individual spot a distinct blessing that would shape my life and guide my future. how the curls in my hair are a blessing from the moon, our celestial matriarch pulling my locks towards the heavens in celebration of my existence. that to waste my life and these blessings would be a dishonor. that i deserved a better death than that.

i told her she had more blessings than me, that the moon loved her more. she laughed at that.

she told me about how she grew up, with several brothers and no maternal figure to keep them in line. about how she left her family at an early age to pursue an education abroad, on a scholarship of course. how in Europe she fell in love with American jazz music. how she was embarrassed to admit it. how that taught her that everything is more admirable from a distance. how when you’re too close to your source you get caught in negative feedback loops that impair your judgment. 

i told her about my art, and she told me about hers. her voice was soft and low. smooth and syrupy like honey. i listened to it for hours and wanted hours more. but after some time we just sat in silence. as the first light of day slowly worked its way in, we found ourselves drifting into sleep in each other’s arms. 

Terra woke me a couple hours later. she was kind enough to provide me with coffee before driving me home, again on her motorcycle, which excited me as much the second time as the first. it was a very nice bike too; a real vintage model that she took pride in having rebuilt. i admired the gleam in her eyes as she told me about it. she was so clearly full of passion, not for motorcycles but for life itself.

on the stairs of my tenement i told her i admired that. how she seemed to live so much life in so little time. how she had so much life ahead of her. that i wanted to know how her story played out, as interesting as it’s been. i towered over her, standing a step above her, and lost myself in the intensity of her upwards gaze. i finally asked her, i needed to know.

“why did you intervene last night? why did you help me only to incite a riot?”

“well that guy you were talking to has a reputation. i know who he is; he has hurt my friends before.”

“so you saw an opportunity for revenge,” i smirked.

“i can’t honestly say no,” she admitted. “but i had my eyes on you since you walked in. and you were in more danger than i think you realized.”

“so you saw more more than one opportunity.” she chuckled in response. “do you make a habit of saving damsels in distress?” i continued.

“yes.”

I didn’t know what to make of that. i thought at the very least maybe i could enjoy my moment as object of her attention a little longer, before the next damsel comes along.

the sunlight shone through the canopy of maple leaves. it felt warm on my skin, and the sensation slowed my racing thoughts. Terra held my wrist in one hand, gently rubbing her thumb on the inside of my wrist. she had such strong hands, and seemed unaware of how intimate that had felt. i wondered how much of that was an act she put on for all her damsels. but i didn’t want to know. it was a good act and i wanted to feel, at least in this moment, that she was acting for me and me alone.

the tension was palpable. she stared into my eyes intently, with no expression on her face. i felt naked, i felt she could see right through me. i didn’t know what to say, but i knew i didn’t want to say goodbye. i knew any front i put on would go to waste. i knew i had to be honest with her and myself or we would both recognize the lies. instead i let my mind go blank. i let my eyes sink into the deep brown pools that gazed back at me. the light reflecting on their surface, the texture of her irises, the depth of her soul. suddenly i grabbed the lapels of her black leather jacket, unaware of how much time had passed since we spoke. i pulled into her to me, or more accurately i pulled myself into her.

“kiss me,” i told her firmly.

and she did! she kissed the freckle on the tip of my nose. it was short and it passed swiftly but i knew it was a blessing i would carry as long as i lived.

“what are you doing today?” she asked me, brushing off any awkwardness i felt. im sure she felt none.

“i need to clean my apartment. probably do laundry and make a curry.” i knew i was going to spend the day riding one high while coming down from another. “you?” i asked in response, trying to feign disinterest.

“i have a class at the college. i haven’t made up my mind about the rest of the day.”

“at the city college?”

“yes”

“compelling topic?”

“figure drawing actually. we have a nude model today so i can’t be absent.”

“do you like drawing nudes?” i asked cheekily.

“i would,” she told me, “but our prof only uses male models. i haven’t decided if it’s cause of some internalized misogyny or just a little kink of hers.” i laughed. “no, seriously. there’s a lot of rumors of her inappropriate behavior. at this point it’s more of a gossip class than anything.”

“that does sounds like fun,” i agreed, thinking only of how many girls she had gotten to model for her sketches in her apartment. if she did that as a ploy or out of genuine dedication to her art. if she took advantage of those girls, if she was a Picasso in her own right. if she kept her clothes on while she fucked them. i wanted to find out first hand. the desire burned in my chest. i exhaled and let it go.

“im sorry, i need to leave now.” that was the last thing i wanted to hear. “but it was really lovely meeting you. i hope i salvaged your night.”

“salvaged?! you made my whole fucking month!” i exclaimed. i hoped my enthusiasm would get me a little farther with her. “i hope i didn’t ruin yours. i’m sorry for derailing it.”

“don’t be.”

“would you like to see me again in that case?”

“you’re too bright to be asking such dumb questions.”

“then when would you like to see me again?”

“tomorrow night,” she said as if it was non-negotiable. i had no intention of trying. “i’ll pick you up and buy you a meal.”

“oh you don’t need to do all that,” i protested through the ear to ear smile that had come over me.

“too late. i’ve already committed to it,” she said as if it were her solemn duty to show me a good time. “i’ll pick you up at sundown.”

“i’ll be here.”

“good.”

neither of us turned to leave. i froze, feeling the awkwardness that remained between us. i wished she had kissed me.

“one thing before i go,” i was thankful to hear her interject. in one smooth motion she took a step as to be level with me and grabbed me by the neck. she was strong and with her other hand on my hip she easily pushed my back against the wall. and then she finally kissed me.

a bolt of electricity shot through my entire body. her lips were tender, making up for her lack of gentleness. they were parted slightly, and with the force of her face into mine i could feel her teeth on my bottom lip. for one brief second she gave into the same burning desire i had felt for hours.

i hope i never forget the expression on her face as she pulled it back from my own. she looked happy. plainly and purely and the warmth of her smile radiated outwards, illuminating parts of my inner self i hadn’t seen since childhood. i think it was in that moment i fell in love.

“goodbye for now, Billi,” she said in a dulcet tone.

“see you tomorrow, Terra,” praying she would not prove me wrong.

as she continued down the steps i watched her go. her red hair was so much more beautiful in the daylight. i took note of every complexity of the color and texture as quickly as i could, lest it be the last i saw of it. i wanted to bask in this moment. i lit a cigarette and sat in the middle of the stairwell, waiting eagerly for my armored knight to return, to rescue me from my tower and whisk me away to paradise.

star map

there are one hundred billion stars in this galaxy

so what makes mine so special?

what makes them worthy of my devotion? of my prayers? my offerings?

you & i were born under the same stars,

they guided us to one another, after shaping our lives in ways we could not yet comprehend

so maybe i owe them my life, as much as i feel i owe it to you

soon i will have a map of these stars emblazoned across my body

permanently marked upon my chest, on my shoulders, my arms, my hands

so that when my times comes to return to them,

i’ll be able to find my way back to you.