"Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late, Our acts our angels are, for good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still." ~ Emmerson Last week Artemis flew around the dark side of the moon. Because I have been somewhat obsessed recently with all things stars, space and twinkling things, this adventure resonated with me. I followed their wake up playlist alongside NPR, learning all new music. As I ran in the early morning, I would look up at the dark night and think about the Artemis crew, their broken toilet, and the dark side of the moon. Nic mused outwardly about what exactly those astronauts were doing up there. As a scientist, he gets way more into the actual science - like numbers, graphs, the Scientific Method. I am more metaphorical. While he ponders their experiments, all I want to know is - will they come home with more stardust? I l...
The coffee pot sputters as it brews my morning lifeblood. I pull on my leggings, reminding myself that the first five steps out of bed are the hardest. With those behind me, the day will unfold. These moments before the sun rises are mine alone. The house is dark and quiet. The dogs still lie curled in their beds. I peer out the long thin windows of my house into the shadowy park below. Much is hidden in the shadows there. On these dark, quiet mornings, on days when Nic forgot to close the blinds before bed, I look out into the park and wonder who is there, and what can they see when they peer back up at me. Our tall windows illuminate our house. I am sure that I am clearly visible from below. I warily look over my shoulder as I pull the cup down from the cupboard. I draw the blinds. I check the lock on the door. Perched above the park, I wonder how many people have curiously glanced into my home, my life, and my world while I lived it unsuspecting I had an audience. I live ...