by Robert Waltz
Not for the faint of art.
Hello darkness, my old friend...
Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, too much light can be a bad thing, you grok?
One of the many things I hate about the beach is how relentlessly bright it is. You're lying there on your towel or whatever, and because walking in sand is intrinsically fatiguing and because of all the heat and humidity and the having to deal with other people, you're tired. So you close your eyes. But that doesn't induce darkness, no, all you see is the pulsating deep red of the skin and veins of your eyelids. The accursed daystar still burns, beating down upon you and trying to give you cancer, blasting its blackbody radiation -- a misleading term, but that's what physicists call it when something shines in a spectrum -- into your retinas.
Even worse is when a cloud passes between you an the solar orb, giving you relief that is as short-lived as it is illusory.
Make it go away. At least for a few hours.
In darkness, there is comfort. In darkness, there is no ugliness, no beauty. In darkness, no one can see you smile.
Turn off the light.