Disconnection

I love my friends. That’s how simple it is. The brain twister is why I am totally incapable of expressing that.

Human beings are supposed to be able to communicate. To some (or most) people communicating is probably the most obvious and mundane thing to do. Is that the way you feel? Congratulations! To me communicating equals solving math puzzles and since I’m struggling with the simplest additions exchanging thoughts with another member of mankind is nothing but a fool’s errand. I just can’t do it.

Most of the time I feel – in the absence of a better expression – disconnected as if there were a huge gap between myself and other people. I’d love to share a simple, straightforward and sincere connection with someone, I’d love to be able to convey my thoughts as much as I’d love to understand the thoughts of the other person in the way they were meant to be understood. Why can’t I have that? Why do I so often find myself unintentionally insulting someone? Sometimes I just blurt out my weird opinions and views and end up regretting that in less than five minutes.

The other thing is that sometimes I simply don’t understand what people around me are talking about. I guess that is because most of my friends share faith in certain things I cannot believe in. It’s not that I don’t want to believe in those things, I do – I just don’t see how I could (thanks to the sarcastic cynic screaming in my head). Therefore I believe the gap will remain without a bridge, as unfortunate as it is.

Aurorae

You might be wondering whether I’m aware that there is nothing in these pictures. Don’t worry. I know they're black.

Should you be one of those who wield endless good will and eyes of an eagle (although I don’t know how well eagles can see colours) you might be able to see a dim, greenish area in these pictures. You don’t? Then my eyes are creating visions to please me. The reason why I’m posting these pathetic ‘photos’ (note the scornful tone) is that we had northern lights here last night. Here comes the great question: why am I in the city the one time aurorae can be seen in southern Finland? Due to massive light pollution the aurorae seemed quite dim but I’m nevertheless thrilled I saw them. I find it curious that I've lived 22 years in Finland, well above 60°0’ N and still haven’t seen northern lights until now.

Even though I like photographing I don’t know much about it. I’d love to be able to photograph stars, northern lights and that kind of things but I lack both the technical and the artistic skills.  I accept my limits but still want to mention a couple of excuses: a) the aurorae were dim because of the unnaturally bright lights in the town and b) these pictures were taken with a cellphone. Forgive me.

Since the pictures are as miserable as they are it might seem weird I’m putting them here in the first place. My absolutely cheesy and sentimental explanation is the following: What really matters isn't what the photos look like but the moment when I took them. As I said last night was the first time I saw aurorae and it felt so surreal that I thought I should have at least something to convince me the next morning that I actually saw them. It felt unbelievable. They were so beautiful and seemed like fleeting veils of light spreading pale emerald shine that alternated between haze and brightness. Seeing them was both strange and familiar; somehow I felt as if I had been looking at them all my life.

Yep. Sparklers. On a lark? Absolutely.

P.S. I was on the countryside the other weekend and spend a lot of time gazing at stars now that I still can – soon enough the nights will be too bright. I think I recognize at least Ursa Minor and Major, Perseus, Cassiopeia, Auriga, Corona Borealis, Boötes, Cepheus, Orion and the Pleiades. The only stars I think I know for sure are Sirius, Arcturus and Spica. I almost wish our summer nights were darker so that I could both see the stars and smell the wonderful scent of summer. (And pretend to be an elf. Laugh if you please.)