We are stardust, we are golden,
We are billion year old carbon.
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.
— Joni Mitchell, Woodstock
“Physicists say we are made of stardust. Intergalactic debris and far-flung atoms, shards of carbon nanomatter rounded up by gravity to circle the sun. As atoms pass through an eternal revolving door of possible form, energy and mass dance in fluid relationship. We are stardust, we are man, we are thought. We are story.”
— Glenda Burgess, The Geography of Love: A Memoir
“Within all of us is a varying amount of space lint and star dust, the residue from our creation. Most are too busy to notice it, and it is stronger in some than others. It is strongest in those of us who fly and is responsible for an unconscious, subtle desire to slip into some wings and try for the elusive boundaries of our origin.”— K.O. Eckland, Footprints On Clouds
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Filed under: Life, photography
