The Earth, seen from a distance
- Art of Hearing | Dyon Scheijen
- Apr 6
- 3 min read
The image above is going all over the world.
and shows what we rarely experience:
The Earth, viewed from a distance.
At this moment, man looks back at her again,
from the immense silence of space.
Within the Artemis program
Mankind is moving towards the moon once again, and in doing so, is also looking back at planet Earth.
A place in history where distance arises.
And with that, something else as well:
view.
This reminds me of Wubbo Ockels.
Who tried until his last breath
to share this perspective.
Not to convince,
but to show
what changes
when you see the earth from a distance.
Two artworks are created precisely at this moment.
Not afterwards.
Not as a reflection on what has been.
But while it is happening.
In an earlier reflection, I wrote about the need for an anchor,
in a world that seems to be on fire more and more often.
About how art can be a place
where the noise falls silent for a moment.
This second work arises from that same search -
but with one difference:
This time I am distancing myself.
I am currently working on two works at the same time.
A triptych - DS26001 .
An assignment.
And also a diptych - DS26002.
This work.
A work that focuses not only on what we see,
but on what arises
when we look.
The Earth.
An image that we all think we know.
Blue.
White.
Relatable.
Has almost become a matter of course.
But when you step back,
changes something fundamental.
Not only what you see.
But as you see it.
Our brain is not a camera.
It complements.
It seeks meaning.
It creates stories.
Sometimes we see patterns that aren't there.
Faces in clouds.
Structures in chaos.
Not because they are literally there -
but because we need them
to understand.
In the past, those phenomena were named.
Tried to capture in models.
In laws.
In statements.
Today we know:
Those models are not complete.
But the principle remains.
Every person looks -
and sees something else.
And that is exactly where this work begins.
What are now still clouds,
will change.
Not by the image itself,
but through what we are going to see in it.
In the layers that I add
- structure, thickening, direction -
space is created.
For interpretation.
For identification.
For projection.
White lines forming as currents.
Golden accents that break, connect, heal.
Compressions that bear tension.
As if something lies hidden in the image.
As if it wants to reveal itself slowly.
Not because it was already there.
But because we take the time for it.
This work is not only about the earth.
It is about how we look at things.
How we give meaning.
How we seek stability
in what is seemingly formless.
And perhaps that is exactly
what these times demand of us.
That we learn to look again.
From a distance.
With gentleness.
With room for the unknown.
For only when we distance ourselves,
we see what is truly of value.
Maybe it is not about what we see.
But about how we are willing to look.
And for the courage to dare to look at things differently.
Because that…
is where science begins.
Where Art Meets Science.
Source image: NASA
Comments