(crazy psychedelic high res 3D anaglyph photo by Ray Harryhausen) Night, stars in the sky, The good old druid pinning Giselle to the ground in a grove in Los Angeles, California, February 2019

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As twilight deepened, the stars began to emerge, twinkling in the ink-black sky like shards of diamond against velvet. Scarlett's eyes traced the constellations, finding comfort in their familiar patterns. The vastness of the universe above mirrored the vastness of the land below, reminding her of her place in this grand tapestry of existence. In this moment, Scarlett "Silver Spurs" felt a profound connection to the land. She understood that the landscape held stories untold, secrets waiting t

Cardboard ship lit by LEDs with a light from a solar garden lamp in the middle in the background a poster of the keel nebula. foto in long exposure with a y 360 huawei with the long exposure software. , by Chris Foss

$The in-between that space desertion caught; she breathed in as the important cold bit through her heated skin. It meant flesh shiver slow that pale, internal agony in silent waves that crawled multi-layered echoes. You did not move, bare and all-but-ended instincts still left that time filled with the need; you understood the fundamentals, purged of breath until red wet vision and heightened to equal thought. There: the well solid. Then beneath the moonlight blackened fractures, trauma just from$

[in the desert] The sacred knowledge runs your mind in a torrent of visions and sensations. You see the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, the intricate dance of life and death that underlies all existence beyond the physical realm, connecting with the great cosmic web of life. The boundaries between your self and the universe dissolve, and you find yourself floating in a state of pure consciousness. You experience the thoughts and feelings of every living being on thi

or through observatory glass I glimpse your ethereal form gliding betwixt stellar spheres, a lunar nymph amid the dark. Here amongst dust-clad worlds and comet trails your dancing holds court, cerulean skin agleam where gamma rays caress in radiance to shame any photonic form. Sable tresses wave like nebulae in frictionless ballet, as ocher eyes scan for signs of life within lithic landscapes void of green. One hand grips comet-lance akin to staff of old, yet its photon kiss can shatter mountain

Is the answer to a never ending story Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah Reach the stars Fly a fantasy Dream a dream And what you see will be

Sometimes I think, oh yes I'd move to Where all the shooting stars are gone With all of our wishes How could they bear, oh no, to carry around the stupid human hopes So I'm gonna help, I will!

Sometimes I think, oh yes I'd move to Where all the shooting stars are gone With all of our wishes

(psychedelic 3D anaglyph red-cyan glasses required) Jody Banks, The Fall Guy, Heather Thomas