For many years the interface between computers and people has been very interesting to me. Even in today’s cutting edge technology it can often feel as if we’re pounding our “wetware” (brains) against an unyielding machine. Even if the machine can now be carried in our pocket.
Whether due to being a California native or due to another aspect of interface fascination, I’m drawn to the places where things and people meet. Like the base of Morro Rock, where the sea relentlessly carves out caves from the solid stone.
Back toward the South, Montaña De Oro harbors an interface of grass and sand, air and water, waves and stone, in a symphony of Life. Every time I look at this next photo, my heart rate slows and breathing deepens. The quiet mood evoked by timeless beauty fills my soul with the misty distant throb of surf.
Families interfacing children and elders stroll and scramble these soft and hard shapes, and lone souls find solace. The abundance of life you can see thrives atop layers of unseen life slowly digesting the stone and absorbing the sand. I see parts of that story written in this slab of sandstone being pounded for millennia by earthquakes and peeled away by the prying waves of sea and life of all sizes and sorts.
This stone tablet stores the tale and computes the story of this place, the perfect interface.
You must be logged in to post a comment.