Dear Universe,
A person does not expect a little ol’ YouTube video to put them in direct contact with an entity such as you, but here we are.
We’ve got twenty-eight dots bouncing along, perfectly content to follow a set of unseen rules, although I’m pretty sure they’re all going the same speed (wait … are they?) Each one travels back and forth along its designated track on the rainbow until it hits a boundary, where it chimes, and then reverses direction.
Sounds simple enough, but Universe, I suspect it’s much more complex than that.
As soon as I pressed the “play” triangle and the dots sprang into action, I was mesmerized. I couldn’t look away, but you knew this would have that effect, didn’t you? It was as if you were saying, My rules are at once simple and complex; they result in beautiful outcomes. Listen and watch. You will see.
While that turned out to be true, Universe, what really drew me in was the narrative. The dots tell a story, and I know a thing or two about that. I write all kinds of stories and a good narrative does not escape me, even if it’s based solely on a bunch of bouncing dots.
However cosmic, there is a plot here, and as I watched, I wanted to know what was going to happen (and then it did). The characters are fully developed individuals who are also completely integrated with their brethren. They’re purposeful. These dots have one job and they are on it.
The weirdest part is that no matter how many times the dots told their tale, which repeats exactly every 15 minutes, I was captivated by it even after I knew how it would end.
I’ve never encountered such perfection. I knew that if you could talk, this is what you’d say—what you were saying. To me.
You are seriously badass.
That applies to the entire orchestration, but as the 30 seconds after the 7-minute mark began to unfurl, my eyes widened. Then the corners of my mouth curled upwards, and finally, I gasped.
Universe, it’s official: I am receiving your broadcast.
The chaotic moments charmed me as well. I knew something was coming. Perhaps that’s the prize for being a part of you. We universe inhabitants have some sixth sense and mine clicked in to tell me: You don’t need to understand this to be a part of it. This is about you. Keep watching.
That’s some trick you’ve got there.
Were there golden spirals in that video? Those nautilus thingies? I’m pretty sure I saw nautiluses thingies in there and I should know. Not only did I own a complete Spirograph set as a kid, I watched Disney’s classic, Donald in Mathmagic Land in the Emerson Middle School auditorium when I was in seventh grade, so I’m essentially a trained expert on this stuff.
At the end of Mathmagic Land, which everyone in your domain should watch several times, the following quote from Galileo Galilei (1564 - 1642) fills the screen:
“La mathematica è l’alfabeto nel quale Dio ha scritto l’universo”
(“Mathematics is the alphabet with which God has written the universe.”)
Well then, it’s starting to make sense, but I don’t need all the answers. Therein lies the beauty. I just need to watch the sweet little bouncing dots. Or listen to their chimes. Or feel their singularity and connection. Or all of the above.
I ought to tell my God Squad friends about this. Maybe this is what they’re trying to find in their churches and bibles and prayers. But they don’t really need any of that, Universe, do they?
And your answer is …
That’s exactly what I thought you’d say.
I am writing this on the first day of 2024, and I’ve got to tell you, the last few years haven’t been my best, but somehow I’m still standing. Today as I take in your message again and again, I want to believe we’re in a part of your sequence that seems messy, but in reality its replete with nobility and playfulness and symmetry and and and ...
Universe, I know me and mine are in there somewhere. After all, you’ve got plenty of room for us. Speaking of which, I love that you are so big and that your message is so small and so very gentle. That may be the best part of all.
The jigsaws pictured herein are some of my favorites, and it looks like you had a hand in each of them. It looks like this connection between you and me was destined to happen eventually. So you keep sending tiny points of light on endless orbits and I promise to keep an eye out for them.
Love, Erin
ps: You could not ask for a better translator than the creator of the message that moved me to write this letter. That guy is top shelf and then some.
pps: That audio clip above (courtesy of SoundBoard) is from a movie called Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which is TOTALLY your kinda flick. For the record, I have felt like the guy Richard Dreyfuss plays my whole life.
ppps: Weirdly enough, I’m not sure Mathmagic Land would be allowed in the middle schools of 2024 even though it premiered in 1959. Not only does the film begin with D. Duck wielding a long gun, he later has a compelling foray into chess while decked out in full drag. And those hooded guys with the pentagram palms would never pass muster today.
yeah, yeah …
pppps: You ever read Flatland? You should read Flatland.
I love this! Everything about it; the video (visually, sonically, mathematically), your writing, and the images of the puzzles! Outstanding!
Outstanding essay!