Event Horizon

Today is the birthday of Rene' Sluze born 1622 in Visé, Spanish Netherlands (now Belgium).  Sluze is best known for the curves called the Pearls of Sluze.  Pearls of Sluze are curves formed by the equation: yⁿ = k(a - x)^px^m   where n, p and m are integers.  The particular curves drawn below have n = 4, k = 2, a = 4, p = 3, and m = 2.





In a recent conversation with one of my sons, he expounded on the concept of an event horizon.  I had not heard of the concept and Wikipedia defines it in the following manner:  "In general relativity, an event horizon is a boundary in space-time beyond which events cannot affect an outside observer. In layman's terms, it is defined as "the point of no return" i.e. the point at which the gravitational pull becomes so great as to make escape impossible. The most common case of an event horizon is that surrounding a black hole. Light emitted from beyond the horizon can never reach the outside observer. Likewise, any object approaching the horizon from the observer's side appears to slow down and never quite pass through the horizon. The traveling object, however, experiences no strange effects and does, in fact, pass through the horizon in a finite amount of proper time."

 
My son was commenting about his own event horizon.  I have been dwelling on his comment for quite some time.  His event horizon will change him.  When he leaves, I will have an image in my mind and heart of who he is.  Those images will be frozen in time until I see him again.  I have been thinking of other event horizons.  Some of the images I have of my sons, my mother, my father, and my siblings are frozen in time.  The shift of those images at times can be shocking.  I wonder what event horizons I have gone through, may be none as drastic as my son's.  I do see event horizons that are coming for my parents and I wish time could freeze.  I have thought about this blog more than any other blog I have composed.  One of my friends reached his event horizon and I have not seen him for quite some time.  I wonder how my image of him will shift.  I am true to my words . . . I am rambling.