“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering. . .every hero and coward. . .every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
— Carl Sagan, The Pale Blue Dot

 I love this for the singular reason that it reminds me that we are both infinitesimal and infinite. That we’re at once subatomic particles in in the eye of the giant and we are ourselves giant, tiny whole broken but beautiful universes of love, creativity, and depth.

 

When I think about the precious moments of my own life that line the long hallways of my mind like pictures, I'm grateful that the synapses of my working brain shoot me to my past self at the speed of light (186,000 mps!)

 

                             My most IDGAF face.

                                   Say somethin'.

But there is also this sadness. I don’t think we actually have a word for it in English, but my Portuguese friend calls it ‘soldadi’ This kind of sadness that follows on the heels of a beautiful moment as if part of the same wave when we realize that memories are beholden to time, and promise us that they will fade like footprints in carpet.


So I then am beholden to photography for the way it traps those moments like fireflies. They are cherished by us and offer us the gift of bending space and time to continue telling our stories long after we give up the ghost.


Shortly before his untimely death in the summer of '92, American hiker Christopher McCandless wrote that happiness is only real when shared. 


Whether Chris’ words are true for you or not, It is my hope that through our shared experience, you can enjoy the light of a thousand fireflies for all the years you are at home on this pale blue dot.


x.

lindsey