Yesterday, I once again indulged in astrophotography after a very, very long time. Glancing at my folder, it seems like my last successful attempt at astrophotography was in May, last year. Last unsuccessful attempt, September. Either way, it’s been at least 5 months, and I definitely don’t like that.
Astrophotography is supposed to be one of my most cherished hobbies. Yet, which (sensible) person leaves his passions untouched for months on end?
I used to be thorough with winter constellations. Speaking of 2012. I can now scarcely recall what was the last winter constellation I saw, until yesterday. I’ve forgotten the types of supernovae. I’ve forgotten how to measure distance from redshift. I’ve forgotten how I calculated the rate of rotation of the sky every second. I don’t recall meanings of many of the values in an ephemeris. I was unsure even about the method in which I went about post-processing my astrophotography, yesterday.
Yet, all that I mentioned so far, save the last, I have written trending Google+ Posts on all. I’ve given out this knowledge to people. And now, I myself have somehow managed to give it all up. To forget something which I happily gave out to the world.
Maybe you recall, I bought a LEGO Mindstorms EV3 Robotics Kit in September last year.
The last time I programmed this thing was the very same month I bought this thing. Silence for 6 months. And counting. And I’m apparently a fan of LEGO bricks. An admirer of robotics. A possessor of a robotics workshop certificate. And supposedly a programmer.
It’s March now. The month of the year-end exams. For the past month, I haven’t taken a single photograph, leave alone sharing one. And I supposedly am a photographer, with a high-end mirrorless DSLR camera.
That configuration of the robot you just saw, that’s three months old. It’s now gathering dust, save a couple of hours of maintenance and testing I carried out last month. My camera’s gathering dust. The black camera bag is speckled with golden fragments of dust. My telescope’s packed up for the past half year. That too, the last time I took it out, was to test my instruments.
This is all just not good. Not good at all. I seem to have lost my identity. That self which defined itself as a science-loving, obsessed with robotics and astrophotography, innovative photographer seems to be no longer there.
They say I’m growing up. Giving my first board exam next year.
Society, you’re so good at standardizing people. You’re so successful at bleaching colours into grayscale. You’re so good at cooking food without spices. You’re just so cool at degrading beauty in hideousness.
I was apparently cool with all this. I hadn’t realized I had happily sacrificed my identity. It was indeed a shock when, due to some reason, I did wrap my head around this fact last night.
I’ll desperately try to be what I originally was. What I want to be. What was my real self. But I don’t know if I’ll be successful.