2.26.2025

The absolute bliss of a planetarium. Spent a day on Mars with a dozen strangers. We tasted dust and felt the cold and learned to differentiate shades of orange in the dirt. Then I wandered out into the exhibit area where I learned about the Rovers and the little helicopter and I remembered the Seven Minutes of Terror every time they drop one of those on the planet and I'm tired of everything feeling like a metaphor for my own anxiety. I would like some science fiction please.

Next door they've repurposed the old velodrome from the '76 Olympics and converted it into climate controlled sectors to mimic conditions in different regions. Carol Marcus takes Kirk into the Genesis cave. 'Let me show you something that will make you feel young, as when the world was new.' In the subtropical room I'm greeted by red and blue macaws. Reminds me of my neighbor in Traverse City. Why that guy had a tropical bird at 44.7 degrees north I don't know and it's my loss. Warmest I've been since I came to Canada. Could nap in here with the capybaras and wake up on the straw and eat from an auto-filled tin and never complain again.

Couple two three penguin species. They repurpose wet suits to make little boots for them. I guess their feet wear out and I wonder if that happens in Patagonia or just artificial environments. Atlantic sturgeon glide along the glass looking bored. All fish look bored when they're not eating or being fed on or caught by humans. Takes a lot of energy to be frantic and worried. There's wisdom in being fish. The sugar kelp looks tasty. Have to remember to remind myself to eat.