Blue Times
- BLUE TIMES - A computer painting. It appears on the copyright page in my Art Folio, "The Stephen E. Fabian Collection No.18: Paintings
On June 5, 2012, Ray Bradbury died. How sad that anyone with a talent and a humane regard for mankind, like Ray Bradbury had, ever has to die. He wrote wonder-filled stories labeled "fiction" though they are filled with profound truths about you and me reflected in the characters and incidents he created; about the people we love, the things we cherish, what we dream about, our hopes and fears, and the nostalgia for a loved past that will never return. I am forever grateful to him for writing so many wonderful stories that moved me emotionally, inspired me, and showed me the wonders of life and the universe.
His famous book, "The Martian Chronicles" is not about Martians, it's about you and me; WE are the Martians. For his marvelous stories he chose words like a poet, shifting the readers consciousness to a place of wonder. In the very first story in the book, "Ylla," the flowing opening lines carry you away to a strange new world . . . "They had a house of crystal pillars on the planet Mars by the edge of an empty sea, and every morning you could see Mrs. K, eating the golden fruits that grew from the crystal walls"
He was born with a soul filled with the joy of life. He wrote; "As a child I memorized all of John Carter and Tarzan, and repeated them to anyone who would sit and listen. I would go out to my grandparents front lawn on summer nights and reach up to the red light of Mars and say, "Take me home! - I yearned to fly away and land there in the strange dusts that blew over dead sea bottoms toward the ancient cities" . . .
I don't know if there is a "Hereafter," but there should be one for people like Ray Bradbury; a place beyond the stars where they can endure, forever, at that unique place of theirs that they call, "home".
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