Finding My Forever
Science fiction, woman photographer on future planet, new life on new planet.
Three thousand habitable planets in the universe, and I'm living on the lone one without seasons. No autumnal leaves or flakes of December snow. Originally, it was not my idea to travel here to Perterra, the farthest planet from Earth. But finding solace across the universe became undeniably appealing after the end of my marriage coupled with the loss of my beloved brother. These profound events were followed by my departure from a job that stifled my creativity. Then Tempest Studios again asked me to direct a documentary, chronicling the first 2 years of the settlement on Perterra. So I seized the opportunity this time, in order to place infinite space between myself and the remains of my life on Earth.
It has been more than a year since I arrived in Perterra and I'm still captivated by the dual moons cloaked in indigo, water that tastes like strawberries and endless deserts of amber sand. Yet I have to admit that it is beginning to feel like home.
As a child, I often dreamed of visiting other worlds. When most girls were still playing with iconic blonde dolls, I was using my telescope to view stars millions of miles away. My father was a scientist and we would often talk about the wonders of the universe and the space missions being launched to explore distant, intriguing planets. But both of my parents are long gone and my brother/mentor/confidant, Lance, died in a motorcycle accident 3 years ago. With Lance's added absence, I began to feel as if my life was moving in slow motion, as if each day was indistinct from the next. Lance had always provided unwavering support, especially after my marriage to my former husband, Alex, disintegrated. When I initially began directing films, my career had consumed both my time and energy. But as time passed, my vision for my life evolved. I wanted to focus more on family: to have children. But that was the one dream that Alex and I did not share, our disparate desires eventually creating an unrelenting chasm between us.
On Perterra, our cameras capture the families, the culture, and the children. Children of every hue, laughing, singing, playing. They are the heart of Perterra and of this film. I am truly pleased with the work that the crew and I have completed thus far. Perhaps ThisIsPerterra will premier at Sundance or even Cannes. Yet a part of me is ambivalent. Beyond editing the film and presenting it to the studio, what do I have to return to Earth for next spring?
God is here with me. And the thought of leaving my Perterran sanctuary colors my mood melancholy.
My parents departed for a resort on Neptune 20 years ago, but their ship never arrived. The whereabouts of the vessel, it's crew and the passengers remains unknown. But last night I dreamed about my parents and in my dream, they were smiling. I finally knew that they were o.k. Lance always said not to worry, that they had sailed into their destiny, their forever.
Now here I am, trying to find my own forever.
It has been more than a year since I arrived in Perterra and I'm still captivated by the dual moons cloaked in indigo, water that tastes like strawberries and endless deserts of amber sand. Yet I have to admit that it is beginning to feel like home.
As a child, I often dreamed of visiting other worlds. When most girls were still playing with iconic blonde dolls, I was using my telescope to view stars millions of miles away. My father was a scientist and we would often talk about the wonders of the universe and the space missions being launched to explore distant, intriguing planets. But both of my parents are long gone and my brother/mentor/confidant, Lance, died in a motorcycle accident 3 years ago. With Lance's added absence, I began to feel as if my life was moving in slow motion, as if each day was indistinct from the next. Lance had always provided unwavering support, especially after my marriage to my former husband, Alex, disintegrated. When I initially began directing films, my career had consumed both my time and energy. But as time passed, my vision for my life evolved. I wanted to focus more on family: to have children. But that was the one dream that Alex and I did not share, our disparate desires eventually creating an unrelenting chasm between us.
On Perterra, our cameras capture the families, the culture, and the children. Children of every hue, laughing, singing, playing. They are the heart of Perterra and of this film. I am truly pleased with the work that the crew and I have completed thus far. Perhaps ThisIsPerterra will premier at Sundance or even Cannes. Yet a part of me is ambivalent. Beyond editing the film and presenting it to the studio, what do I have to return to Earth for next spring?
God is here with me. And the thought of leaving my Perterran sanctuary colors my mood melancholy.
My parents departed for a resort on Neptune 20 years ago, but their ship never arrived. The whereabouts of the vessel, it's crew and the passengers remains unknown. But last night I dreamed about my parents and in my dream, they were smiling. I finally knew that they were o.k. Lance always said not to worry, that they had sailed into their destiny, their forever.
Now here I am, trying to find my own forever.
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