Las Vegas | Photo by Candy Chang

Thirty-nine thousand feet over the Rocky Mountains. Night flight into the desert. First proper trip in twenty-two months and my fear of flying has not improved. We crossed a line of thunderstorms along the eastern seaboard, and I searched for cosmic meaning in the turbulence. Although I know the science and statistics by heart, turbulence still leaves me clawing at the seat, overwhelmed by full-bodied vibrations of doom and a sudden belief in fate—a desire to repent and a craving for god, any kind will do. Then the air grows calm again, I forget my vows, and I return to gazing into a screen.

Despite my anxieties, I love flying at night, suspended in a timeless non-space while I watch the electrified grids of distant civilizations spread out below.

Transient Waves – Slightly More Than Flight

Transient Waves | i, 1996 | Bandcamp
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January 23, 2020


I prefer flying at night, cocooned in a netherworld beyond space and time, no longer aware of hovering above the earth at thirty-thousand feet.
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