Rodney Sanches
Sonshine
Consider the human body as a diagrm of the cosmos. The smallest cell, the sperm, a comet, a ball of noise, churned out in the billions, debris and flotsam from the edge of nowhere. The largest, the egg, rare and massive. Attracting by the presence and gravity, implacable and still a collision and explosion rippling and tearing into existence, more from whence it came. Boiling forth, new material a chain reaction. The brain holding the mind, working at recreating the exterior internally in shimmering slices of awareness. Its form; the undulating burning surface of the sun, memetic machinery churning. All radiating, and a child brighter still, glowing.
In the film The Shinning, the thoughts of the boy enter the slack and empty vault of his father, casing light on impossible ambition and broken machinery without function. The father’s mind explodes, nova. Destruction in his orbit, then finally at peace, fully entropic and still. After the blaze only ash and stillness. sitting in space, frozen.
As I have previously mentioned, that my single night terror was a dog that looked like a cow. What I learned years later, was that this was a dog, I have never seen before, but one that my dad had certainly seen.