
It’s ringed by a range of knife-edged, blue mountains.

The horizon is near, so near, that it appears curved. Each artwork celebrates an “exoplanet” - a foreign planet circling a foreign star, the focus of JPL’s research.Ī person in space gear stands on a mauve desert. The creative output of an art and design team at the JPL, called “The Studio”, furthers the agency’s goal is to publicize recent astronomical discoveries, made by NASA. Since January of last year, NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), in Pasadena, California, has produeced a set of attractive posters that paint beguiling vignettes of life off-Earth. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) is also engaging in a kind of storytelling. Human exploration, be that of far-flung continents by sailing ships or of cosmic realms by robotic rovers have typically been preceded by spell-binding yarns. Fiction was a prologue to the spate of space explorations, to come nearly 100 years later, kicking off with the Mercury program in 1958. Such nineteenth century science-fiction fueled the American public dream of a future of human outposts in space. There, they decided to live forever, staying in touch with Earth by Morse code, signaled by skipping and jumping on their Spalding ball of a home. Fortunately, those men in hard hats had enough to eat, even a few hens.

When a giant brick sphere - built to be a “star” to help maritime explorers chart the oceans - is catapulted into Earth’s orbit, with workers still inside, a floating colony is set up. In “The Brick Moon,” published in 1869, Edward Everett Hale told the story of how humans migrated to space.
