November 20 2006

Text By Greg Fallis

Christiaan Huygens, in the 17th century, told us light existed in the form of a wave. And we believed him. Then Isaac Newton told us light consisted of small particles, which he called corpuscles. And we believed him. Then Albert Einstein told us light could be both a wave and a particle. And though we were skeptical, we eventually believed him too.

Now we're told light is a snake. And we're willing to believe it. There is a distinctly ophidian quality to light. The way it's able to slither in through the tiniest crack of an eyelid and wake you up. The way it glides slowly, in absolute silence, across the lawn. The way it strikes with unexpected quickness and ferocity when you leave a movie theater on a summer afternoon. The way it creeps in through the window on a winter day and wraps its warm self around you, slowly squeezing all sense of wakefulness out of your body.

Einstein, Newton, Huygens...you can keep your waves and your particles. Light is a snake, and it's turned the tables on us. We do not charm the snake; the snake charms us.