When I look at an image of a distant galaxy, star cluster or nebula, it evokes in me a sense of awe, a sense of mystery and even, in an inexplicable kind of way, a sense of the sacred. Though the incredible images being made by amateur astrophotographers and by professional astronomers using space-based telescopes such as Hubble and Webb seldom fail to amaze me, I admit I feel a certain loss.
Our ancestors who lived only several hundred years ago had something we don't have--a Bortle 1 sky at almost every location on Earth. Before the capacity to harness electricity I imagine a world in which there were no electric light bulbs, no airport lights, no neon signs, no security lights, street lights, traffic lights or headlights--nothing except fire and candlelight. Even in a large city like ancient Rome, I imagine that just getting a few hundred yards from the city brought the full, undiminished splendor of the night sky in all its glory to the human eyes of that time. Not being able to experience the dark night sky every clear evening is similar to lacking essential vitamins in my diet; as though I'm missing some kind of vital nourishment and connection to the universe that isn't about humans--about our politics and economics, our wars, social conflicts and destructive attitudes towards the only planet in the cosmos that supports us. I sometimes need to give my mind a break from the constant bombardment of human heartache, idiocy and cruelty that the age of the internet brings to our desktops, laptops and phones. The night sky has always helped me to do this.
There are numerous motivations urging me to astrophotography. I love the fact that such precision and detail are so important to getting good images. The techie in me is challenged by the technical hurdles and I've long enjoyed working with software. I've spent my entire adult life composing and producing music and managing an electronic music studio. Over the past 35 years I've produced virtual symphonies using the most sophisticated sample libraries, synthesizers and software available. I felt the need to get out of my comfort zone and learn something new, something challenging and difficult outside of music. I want to be a beginner again, and so here I am starting a new pursuit. Knowing it usually takes multiple hours of exposures to get a clear image of a DSO and many hours of pre- and post-processing doesn't discourage me; it takes me a year--or two or three--to compose and produce a 35-40 minute symphony. The patience that music has taught me ought to serve me well in my desire to learn astrophotography, at least that's my hope.
Though I am not a scientist and my approach to astrophotography is more about the aesthetic beauty inherent in deep space objects, there are definite similarities between the desire to make art and the desire to do science. Both are about exploring reality--art explores the inner, psychosocial, spiritual reality of consciousness and the search for beauty, while science explores the nature of material reality in all its complexities and lawfulness.
The poet in me yearns for something that no telescope, CMOS camera or solid mount can give me--the direct experience of the entire night sky with the blazing Milky Way overhead and the myriad of stars and faint fuzzy objects as far as the eye can see. I cannot get that when I walk out into my backyard in San Francisco, all I can see are the moon and planets, several bright stars and when the seeing is good I can see Polaris without averting my eyes. This is a great loss but at the same time I am excited to learn how to photograph what the telescope and digital sensor can see that my eyes cannot. Having to travel a few hours from the city to get to Bortle 2 skies is OK with me.
I hope one day technology will be able to bring humans the powerful benefits that it does without many of the destructive side-effects such as light pollution, loss of biodiversity, climate change, the threat of nuclear annihilation and air, water and soil pollution. We're small creatures living on a planet orbiting an ordinary star in a galaxy with at least hundreds of billions of suns in a universe with billions-or trillions--of galaxies. That's miraculous in itself.
Jerry
Our ancestors who lived only several hundred years ago had something we don't have--a Bortle 1 sky at almost every location on Earth. Before the capacity to harness electricity I imagine a world in which there were no electric light bulbs, no airport lights, no neon signs, no security lights, street lights, traffic lights or headlights--nothing except fire and candlelight. Even in a large city like ancient Rome, I imagine that just getting a few hundred yards from the city brought the full, undiminished splendor of the night sky in all its glory to the human eyes of that time. Not being able to experience the dark night sky every clear evening is similar to lacking essential vitamins in my diet; as though I'm missing some kind of vital nourishment and connection to the universe that isn't about humans--about our politics and economics, our wars, social conflicts and destructive attitudes towards the only planet in the cosmos that supports us. I sometimes need to give my mind a break from the constant bombardment of human heartache, idiocy and cruelty that the age of the internet brings to our desktops, laptops and phones. The night sky has always helped me to do this.
There are numerous motivations urging me to astrophotography. I love the fact that such precision and detail are so important to getting good images. The techie in me is challenged by the technical hurdles and I've long enjoyed working with software. I've spent my entire adult life composing and producing music and managing an electronic music studio. Over the past 35 years I've produced virtual symphonies using the most sophisticated sample libraries, synthesizers and software available. I felt the need to get out of my comfort zone and learn something new, something challenging and difficult outside of music. I want to be a beginner again, and so here I am starting a new pursuit. Knowing it usually takes multiple hours of exposures to get a clear image of a DSO and many hours of pre- and post-processing doesn't discourage me; it takes me a year--or two or three--to compose and produce a 35-40 minute symphony. The patience that music has taught me ought to serve me well in my desire to learn astrophotography, at least that's my hope.
Though I am not a scientist and my approach to astrophotography is more about the aesthetic beauty inherent in deep space objects, there are definite similarities between the desire to make art and the desire to do science. Both are about exploring reality--art explores the inner, psychosocial, spiritual reality of consciousness and the search for beauty, while science explores the nature of material reality in all its complexities and lawfulness.
The poet in me yearns for something that no telescope, CMOS camera or solid mount can give me--the direct experience of the entire night sky with the blazing Milky Way overhead and the myriad of stars and faint fuzzy objects as far as the eye can see. I cannot get that when I walk out into my backyard in San Francisco, all I can see are the moon and planets, several bright stars and when the seeing is good I can see Polaris without averting my eyes. This is a great loss but at the same time I am excited to learn how to photograph what the telescope and digital sensor can see that my eyes cannot. Having to travel a few hours from the city to get to Bortle 2 skies is OK with me.
I hope one day technology will be able to bring humans the powerful benefits that it does without many of the destructive side-effects such as light pollution, loss of biodiversity, climate change, the threat of nuclear annihilation and air, water and soil pollution. We're small creatures living on a planet orbiting an ordinary star in a galaxy with at least hundreds of billions of suns in a universe with billions-or trillions--of galaxies. That's miraculous in itself.
Jerry
I look forward to seeing more of your work.
I think the three of us are going a little off topic.