What is it about weightlessness that haunts our dreams? A return to the womb? A desire to overcome the limitations of our feeble bodies under the predictable constraints of a clockwork physical universe? A remembrance of our time as birds/angels? Arguably, though related, weightlessness is different to flying/floating/falling which are all in some way active or imply another agent [floating suggests on something].
Is this why we thrill at the Indian rope trick, the Kung Fu artists that can ‘levitate’, the idea of escape from harm in a plummeting lift through jumping at precisely the right moment?
In our day and age it is difficult to visually represent this ‘feeling’/notion; once we know Klein’s Leap into the Void photograph was doctored, once we understand how digital manipulation can airbrush out bubbles [I love that term in an underwater photograph context], how trick photography works, how the camera can capture an event that was staged dozens of times to get just the right shot…