I took Kitty to see the astronomy photography exhibition at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich yesterday. And then had a nervous breakdown.
Kitty has 2 - TWO - inset days this week and so yesterday we went to Greenwich, just because we had the time. Kitty is very into space at the moment. She’s such a cliché (of a 12 year old boy in 1952), so we went to the exhibition to coo at all the pictures of nebulae and the Milky Way.
To my jaded eye, they were very reminiscent of the more dramatic bits of the Sistine Chapel and also of very tacky posters from the late 80s. But Kitty knows none of these cultural references and greeted many of the images as old friends. “The pillars of creation,” she said, as one might say “Paul McCartney” and went to look at something else. “Pillars of what..?” I said, peering at it.
At the end, before the shop, (which was excellent), there was a very creative visual interpretation of the inside of a black hole. My eyes sort of slopped over the description because it was technical and Boris Johnson has nothing on me when it comes to stupidity around science, but what I think the photographer had done was record the sound of the inside of a black hole, (how? don’t know), and then attached it to a dish of water and photographed the reverberations in the water made by the sound. We tried to get our heads round this and I started thinking about black holes - first mistake? - then we went to the shop. Kitty bought a badge that was a perfectly round picture of the moon, about an inch across.
“People wear badges to show where they’re from, don’t they?” she said, drily. Good old Kitty. Thank god for her. She is the only truly sensible person I know.
Then we slogged our way by foot, boat, bus and tube back home and I lay down on my bed and over the course of about 30 seconds, felt myself inexorably slide into a personal abyss, which I have discussed in the past. Like something from under the bed had grabbed my ankles. This is not the first time this has happened to me in my life and generally-speaking, I try to fight against it, scrabbling at the headboard to prevent the pulling-under, with tidying up and making lists and buying things I don’t need. But do you know?
This time I think I am going to lean into it. I think I am going to drink too much and watch films at 11 in the morning, go back to taking sleeping pills, lie about in bed and feel sorry for myself, close my eyes and listen and see if I can detect the sound that a black hole makes. I’m not sure this is what Sheryl Sandberg meant when she said “lean in” but she can go to hell. Perhaps it will pass quicker this way.
How about you? Where are you in the inexorable slide in to your own personal abyss? Please leave a comment in the handy box below.
I’m also feeling like this. Weird. My abyss takes the form of endless friends, chocolate and sugar. None of which I normally do. It’s time for me to scrabble back out before it totally pulls me under so I’ve scheduled the gym for next week and today I’m clearing out the cupboard of doom. I’m meant to go out for dinner tonight but somehow post Covid all I have to wear are jeans and t shirts with holes in and dresses from around 2003. How did this happen? Maybe a shopping post Esther? A distraction from the shit show that is the world right now? Or is being distracted from it all even worse? I don’t know. If we form a human chain perhaps we can all pull each other out of our respective holes
How funny, I spent all day in the same position on the sofa. Clicking on my laptop to show a green on enough not to be fired. I’ve eaten peanuts and double cream with blueberries (keto is staving off dementia in my mind). I know I’m in a funk. I wonder if it’s a full moon so we are all suddenly like this?