"

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.

"

Aaron Freeman “You Want A Physicist To Speak at your Funeral”

(source: npr)

(Source: lonelyheartsdeathmetal)

"This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important."

—Gary Provost 

(Source: atomos)

Honey Citron Tea

YakiniQ Cafe - Japantown, San Francisco.

(Found some of the marmalade at a store nearby. Not the same. Apparently I need a pretty, clear glass mug to set the mood.)

I could see for miles, miles, miles

Saturday in snapshots:

First, Lake Anne — we meant to kayak but had no cash. So we wandered around the farmer’s market.

Then we headed to Annapolis, because we felt like it. There was a convoy for a car show. It was a parade of bright cars with lots of waving.

And then we sat by the dock for a bit, admiring the boats and kayaks and the water.

Then we wandered and saw state buildings and pretty side roads with brick streets.

And then we capped the day with crepes. Mine was strawberry nutella, and it was glorious. I meant to take a photo of it halfway eaten, but then I accidentally ate the rest too quickly.

<3

lend me your eyes, i can change what you see

Aloha, 2011. Passing by so quickly.

Ready to go.

Took so long snapping photos, we drifted too far - past the bay into the ocean. Forced exercise, trying not to get lost at sea.

Can you spot Alphonse, my little reptile friend?

Can never have too many papayas.

(Kauai, HI - May 2011)

she is quick and curious and playful and strong

New flats came today! It was like receiving a pretty present with the bright colors and stripes - my favorites. :)

So I took two pictures.

And then one of the shoes themselves. Ready to go to WORK in these.

(Strange feet in new shoes.)