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Journey to the Topknotted Sphere

Today’s news: The io9 site has listed Postsingular as one of the Best SF Books of 2008!

And now for a photo story…

The other day, I was walking by a curved glass sculpture at the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco, and I noticed this intersecting pattern of bright reflections on the ground. These are what scientists call “caustic curves,” because the heat along these lines can grow burning hot.

I stepped into the caustic focus and the gravitational field warp made me as wide as I am tall.

A crow showed me the way to a new land.

The kingdom lay inside the gills of a shelf mushroom.

Shrunken to minute size, I followed a long, winding forest trail into the subdimensions.

Part of the way was uphill, overlooking a landscape of bokeh pastels.

I found the subbies’ great gathering place.

And I glimpsed the Topknotted Sphere.

I pricked up my ears to receive Her wisdom.

The Topknotted Sphere’s voice spoke to me as if from within my own blood.

I learned the secret machinery of the world.

So I can hear the music of a roofline.

And I can see inside the trunks of trees.

One Response to “Journey to the Topknotted Sphere”

  1. Steve H Says:

    That happens to me about this time every year, too. I glanced back on my way out once and the Topknotted Sphere was unpacking into a big Mandelbrot fractal. I ran like a striped ape!


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