“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” – Sarah Williams
I remember the first time I truly saw the night sky: Captivated in my driveway, taking in the sweet scent and scenery of the spring night, I felt suspended in time. I was engulfed and astounded by the stunning, surreal blanket of silver stars—gaping in awe at the exquisite artistry of the minimalistic piece. As the stars gazed back, a twinkle in their eyes, I felt all my pent-up tension release and my stresses dissolve away into the bedazzled abyss. I remember reaching for them—in a literal sense—longing to touch the intangible, feel their illusory warmth. I wished to preserve and admire each star in a jar, like the fascinating fireflies they were.
Though, a mere moment later, the air of tranquility swiftly dissipated as the vast complexity of the beautiful void swallowed me whole. I pondered them, the constellations and their emanations, acknowledging that the mesmerizing patterns before me were simply products of Gestalt principles. That all senses are simply oversimplifications, interpretations, of reality. But…what is reality? Why do we yearn to define it…control it? Why do we seek an ultimate truth when Truth is ultimately what we make of it? More so, what is beauty? An intricate, incomprehensible phantasm? Or a systematic actuality?… I stumbled along this intriguing, yet inconclusive train of thought as the pansophical stars winked at me, mocking my ignorance. Little do they know, in igniting their midnight-blue backdrop, transforming an ominous cloak into a miraculous vision, these catalysts sparked and set ablaze my flourishing fascination for anything and all things “beautiful”. In that seemingly meager moment, I unearthed my curiosity; Vincent Van Gogh said it best, “For my part, I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”
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