Just finished my first homework assignment for Discrete Mathematics, and my, how my brain can run. Not to mean run in the sense of speed or efficiency, but in the kinesthetic joy-jaunt taking place in my head at this very moment. It took quite a while to finish, but the reward in feeling that I actually understood these problems, that I had chipped away at some great block of marble, was an incredibly unique and nuanced feeling. Perhaps it's due to the way I approached Math in high school, that being a desire for its continuation and a love for its contours, but never a true feeling of mastery.
There's always a feeling that perhaps loosing the curtain will compromise its majesty. With math, as with music, as with many of the things I've held love for in my life, there is a fear that the beauty comes from the mystery, and that too much inquiry could paint the world grey. I, now, don't think that's right. The fear exists, and always will, and always should, but a study of the universe could never compromise the majesty of the night sky.
Because, when it comes down it, the universe is only expanding, and the grandeur of those stars only makes our familiar hands all the more important.