Vincent van Gogh. (Dutch, 1853-1890). The Starry Night. Saint Rémy, June 1889. Oil on canvas, 29 x 36 1/4" (73.7 x 92.1 cm). On display at the Museum of Modern Art, New York City

I’m starting to dig through the archives here at Silver Rockets, as I’m discovering that a lot of my favorite things were posted toward the beginning when nobody was reading this blog. I’ll be starting a series of highlights and best-ofs, every so often, to bring some happy images back to the surface for your enjoyment.

First up is The Starry Night, one of my favorite paintings PERIOD. This was post #4 here, on July 4, 2006. (Long time, no see!) It was also my first masthead.

It came to mind the other day, while I was remembering this:

Danielle visits Starry Night! June 2011, NYC.

I saw a lot of neat things while I was in New York City last June (most of them sparkly, not spacey), but there are a few specific things that are especially vivid memories, and this is one of them. I could have sat and looked at The Starry Night for an hour, I bet. The colors are vibrant. The texture is incredible. It’s smaller than I’d imagined. Funny how that works. The Starry Night is smallish. The Lady of Shalott is GIGANTIC. Go figure.

I buzzed around MoMA briefly, taking in a roomful of Monet’s water lilies, Art Nouveau furniture and more, but kept gravitating back to the Starry Night room. I could hardly take my eyes off it! I firmly believe that art is best experienced in person, if possible. Even the best reproductions can’t capture that feeling. If you’re able to, I highly recommend paying Starry Night a visit! And don’t be afraid to get close! I got about a foot away, before getting the Eyeball from a guard. Beware the Eyeball.

Launch day of STS-133, February 24, 2011. Photo by me.

0 Days to Launch!

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year already, but the calendar doesn’t lie: one year ago today, I was standing at the Kennedy Space Center press site, part of the STS-133 NASA Tweetup crowd, waiting to see if Discovery would launch.

It was a beautiful, clear day, and I was surrounded by wonderful people, many dear friends.

We listened to astronauts, watched as a mobile version of Astro Robonaut ran around the lawn (he mutated since we first saw him; I wonder what he’s been eating?), ate Ultimate Party Meatballs (courtesy of @TheSuss, and #BetaHouse), and milled around, soaking up the space ambiance….

And then the most wonderful thing happened.

This:

Launch of Space Shuttle Discovery - February 24, 2011

STS-107 Crew Names on the Astronaut Memorial, Kennedy Space Center, Florida. Photo by Danielle Signor

Of the three main “anniversaries” that comprise the NASA Day of Remembrance, this is the one that hits me the hardest. I wrote about why, two years ago. It’s hard for me to read it, even now.

Speaking of the NASA Day of Remembrance, check out this photo by Bill Ingalls from Thursday’s ceremony; beautiful and poignant. You can see the STS-107 monument in the foreground.

Photo by Danielle Signor

You’ve probably figured out by now that I post as much science fiction and fictional spaceflight as I do “real” manned spaceflight. Give me space shuttle Discovery, the Saturn V, the Eagle, the White Star, the Heart of Gold, the Millennium Falcon — I love them all. I’m a big fan of the retro-future, the places we might have gone and the ships that might have taken us there. That they don’t yet exist gives me no less desire to dream that they might, in the future. Perhaps in my lifetime. Perhaps not. I admit, although I hadn’t necessarily expected tourist travel to the Moon by now, I thought at least somebody would be going there in person, from some country. Alas, earwax.

I read something the other day that keeps coming to mind, as one reason I believe we haven’t gotten further in the conquest of space (along with a lack of understanding as to what exploration means, and why we should be doing it.) It’s a thing called risk. Our culture views risk-taking as a positive thing, when it applies to financial or entrepreneurial ventures, but abhors it when it applies to life and limb.

Here is the quote, emphasis mine:

Not as famous as the Wright Brothers, after all, is Lt. Thomas Selfridge, the first man in history ever to die in a plane crash, but by no means the last. The conquest of the air filled graveyards with pilots. Great futures exact great prices. If we have not conquered space, it is perhaps because we are unwilling to fill our graveyards with the number of astronauts such an ambitious dream requires.
— The Big Idea: John C. Wright

The Mercury 7, being test pilots, knew full well the risks they were taking, and that sudden demise was a distinct possibility. They rode the rockets anyway, and if they died, they died in pursuit of something they believed in. Amazingly, none of the NASA astronauts died right off — in fact, nobody died for a while, which made the Apollo 1 fire all the more shocking. Challenger and Columbia, likewise, shocked and grieved the American public, and the world. However, looking back, it’s amazing we did what we did with the US space program with so little loss of life. How silly is it for us, as a culture, to expect to skip all the grisly bits and proceed straight to streamlined, trouble-free space travel? We emphasize and remember the major accidents (Apollo 1, Challenger and Columbia), and granted they were horrible, tragic events, but certainly people don’t make the same fuss over fatal plane crashes. Planes still crash, people still die — sometimes pilots, sometimes innocent passengers. I dare say, there is not the same public outcry toward the FAA as there is toward NASA when we lose astronauts.

Which is a long way of saying, I agree with the above quote. We are unwilling to pay the price*, and that is in part why we have not conquered space travel in the present, to the degree we expected sixty years ago. Heck, this isn’t the future we expected even thirty years ago. What happened to the weekly space shuttle launches?

So, what’s holding us back from our “rightful” place in the heavens? Our culture’s abhorrence of death? Failed leadership? Lack of vision? Money? Technological progress?

What are your thoughts? Please leave a comment below!

* And am I willing to pay that price, you might ask? Fair question — I don’t know. It’d depend on what sort of mission we’re talking about, and I’d have to think about it in any case. (Lunar mission? Maybe. LEO? Not so much.) I doubt many people have an instant answer as to whether or not they’d die for something. Choose your thing carefully.

Four months ago I was with a group of #BetaHouse friends at the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex, watching the final launch of the space program. (As I recall, it was considerably warmer than it is today. Brr.) It’s still hard to believe that it’s over (the launch, the Space Shuttle Program) in general, let alone that it’s been four months! Good times, great memories, and one final light show from Atlantis on her way to orbit. Happy launch-iversary!

35 years ago, on September 17, NASA unveiled the space shuttle Enterprise to the delight of her TV crew. (Why Bones, you look so STYLIN’ in those gold bell-bottom slacks!)

In 1976, NASA’s space shuttle Enterprise rolled out of the Palmdale manufacturing facilities and was greeted by NASA officials and cast members from the ‘Star Trek’ television series. From left to right they are: NASA Administrator Dr. James D. Fletcher; DeForest Kelley, who portrayed Dr. “Bones” McCoy on the series; George Takei (Mr. Sulu); James Doohan (Chief Engineer Montgomery “Scotty” Scott); Nichelle Nichols (Lt. Uhura); Leonard Nimoy (Mr. Spock); series creator Gene Rodenberry; an unnamed NASA official; and, Walter Koenig (Ensign Pavel Chekov).
CREDIT: NASA

SPACE.com has a nice article about the Enterprise, a prototype and test vehicle that never felt the chill of space, but paved the way for the rest of the fleet!

The space shuttle prototype Enterprise flies free after being released from NASA’s 747 Shuttle Carrier Aircraft over Rogers Dry Lakebed during the second of five free flights carried out at the Dryden Flight Research Center, in Edwards, Calif., as part of the shuttle program’s Approach and Landing Tests (ALT). The tests were conducted to verify aerodynamics and handling characteristics in preparation for orbital flights with the Space Shuttle Columbia, which began in April 1981.
CREDIT: NASA

The Rosette Nebula, by Andy D'Arienzo and Terry Hancock

“A rose for a Rose” — I used to get this line a lot when I was growing up, because my maiden name is Rose, and I did love roses quite a bit! This lovely rose was captured by Andy D’Arienzo and Terry Hancock (Terry is a friend and reader of this blog.) Today is my birthday, and a celestial rose seemed like the perfect thing to post! Enjoy your Wednesday!

I mentioned on Twitter last week that I noticed the other day, all of the space shuttles I drew in high school happened to be either Discovery or Atlantis, the two launches I saw in person. (Strange coinkydink, dontcha think?) @deliciousblur asked me to post them, so here they are (belatedly.) I have a much larger Atlantis in a frame which I may scan in future (if it’s easy to remove and put back, that is. Pen and ink pointillism is sorta my thing, by the by. Hope you like them!

Taken in 1965, the above photo shows the construction of the Vehicle Assembly Building, where fine moon rockets and space shuttle stacks were assembled.

Complex 39 reflection shot of the Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB) under construction with the Launch Control Center (LCC) and Service Towers as seen from across the Turning Basin.

Here’s what it looks like circa 2011:

And at night:

A month and a day ago, I watched space shuttle Atlantis leave Earth for the final time (not as close up as the above photo suggests, but nearby.) It’s hard to believe it’s been a month already, and hard to believe there’s no more space shuttle launches. The next time I see any of the three orbiters, it will be significantly closer up, but in a museum.

I love standing underneath (or near) a Saturn V rocket. It gives me a pang of regret that I never witnessed a launch, but also gives me a thrill. I imagine what it must have been like to see one of those babies take off. The Space Shuttle, I have seen take off. To stand under an orbiter and look up will pang me much more, in a different way…