In my early years of elementary school, I held a deep fascination for the field of science. Wearing oversized shirts that resembled a scientist’s coat, I envisaged myself as a budding scientist. Trips to the library were always driven by my obsession with scientific magazines like Newton and Science Donga, where I eagerly delved into articles about space exploration.
Amidst my dreams of intergalactic adventures, I was plagued by motion sickness during short car rides. Yet, this did not deter my longing to experience space travel firsthand. I would diligently commit to memory the intricacies of Su-geum-ji-hwa-mok-i-cheon’s explanations, yearning for the day when I could escape Earth’s confines. The mere thought of black holes infiltrating our solar system would fill me with concern, while daydreams of discovering a white hole and fleeing the chaos whisked me away to alternate realities.
As I matured and my understanding expanded, so did the daunting realization that becoming an astronaut was as elusive as encountering an extraterrestrial being. Astronauts, I learned, required an exceptional grasp of science, engineering, and particularly, mathematics and physics. The weight of this realization proved to be a source of frustration, pushing me towards an alternative path, leaving the realm of explorers and embracing the confines of a more practical journey.
During my morning walks, I would often stumble upon enchanting sights. Among the verdant trees and blades of grass, I once caught a glimpse of something ethereal and white. Was my vision playing tricks on me? As I focused my gaze, I discovered a delicate spider’s web, so fine that even a slight shift in angle rendered it invisible. Only from a particular vantage point could I catch a glimpse of its refulgent white color, reminiscent of the oval galaxies depicted in the science magazines of my youth. It almost seemed as though, from a few hundred light years away, the Milky Way could bear a similar resemblance.
After pondering the intricacies of the web for what felt like an eternity, my mind harkened back to another captivating image. A solitary blue dot, adorned with a tinge of greenish red. This was the profound photograph of Earth taken by Voyager 1 in 1990, as it journeyed past Pluto’s orbit and turned its gaze towards home.
In contemplating this poignant snapshot of our planet suspended in the vastness of space, the words of famed American astronomer Carl Sagan resound in my mind. He implored us to take a closer look at that solitary dot, that precious blue gem floating in a sea of darkness. It is our home, where everyone we have ever loved and known resides. Sagan’s poignant statement serves as a reminder of our responsibility to cherish this unique abode and to treat one another with warmth and kindness.
Dreams of venturing into galaxies, gazing upon Earth from afar, and the fleeting encounters with spider’s webs merge into another cherished memory. It is a moment where the dawning of a new day converges with the limitless expanse of the universe, encapsulated within the threads of a spider’s web.
Photo and Text: Oh Sang-min, Tent Photo Studio Photographer
Contact: studiotent@naver.com
# When I was in elementary school, my future hope was to be a scientist. He was wearing his father’s shirt that reached down to his knees and called it a scientist’s coat (probably a lab coat). When I went to the library, I used to be obsessed with the science magazine Newton and Science Donga. I was particularly interested in space.
# A child who gets motion sickness after just an hour’s drive has a dream of riding a spaceship like that. I used to memorize Su-geum-ji-hwa-mok-i-cheon’s explanation like a mantra. I was worried that ‘it would be a big problem if a black hole came into the solar system’, and I had a fantasy that I should find a white hole and run away’.
# hmm… I think I noticed it after my head grew a little bigger. Being an astronaut is as difficult as meeting an alien. I heard that astronauts have to be very good at science and engineering, especially maths and physics. The frustration at that time… . Like Supoja, I had no choice but to choose Woopoja (?).
# These are the sights I encountered on the morning walk. Something white is seen between the trees and the blades of grass. Did I look at it wrong? I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. It was a spider’s web. It’s so thin and fine that you can’t see it even if the angle is slightly off. You can barely see it if you look at it from exactly one point. White spider webs gather together to give a bright white color. Looking at it, it reminds me of a thin, wide oval galaxy with a slightly convex center that I saw in science magazines when I was young. If you look at the Milky Way from a few hundred light years away, you might think it would be it.
# After looking on the web for so long, I remembered another picture. One blue dot with a greenish red band. This is a photo of Earth taken by Voyager 1 in 1990. This photo was taken looking back as it passed near Pluto’s orbit.
# The American astronomer Carl Sagan, who saw ‘Earth in space’, left these words. “Look at that point again. that’s our home that’s us Everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone who ever lived lived there. (Omitted)… What better demonstration of our realization that we should cherish the only home we know and treat each other warmly than this pale blue dot?”
# Dreams, galaxies, earth… . That dawn became another ‘memory’ like that. This is the moment when the dawn met the universe in a spider’s web.
Photo and text = Oh Sang-min, photographer at Tent Photo Studio
studiotent@naver.com
#오상민의 #사진지문 #spider #web #galaxy
