What is it about things that shine? The way sparkles catch our eye, the way certain vibes shimmer in the air between moments? When phosphorescence splatters across a black canvas of night, it doesn’t just grab our attention – it reaches straight down into that dying-of-thirst spot in our solar plexus, that deep hollow place that hungers for radiance.
There’s something primordial in our attraction to light. Watch what happens when that halogen flood crashes down, when all those spiny, shiny laser-like beams converge into pure white brilliance. In that holy instant of refraction, something cracks open in the universe. Something transcendent slithers through.
And isn’t this the truth we’re all dancing around? If given the chance – that singular moment of possibility – wouldn’t we all choose to transform? To let our solid forms dissolve into that perfect colorless light that contains everything? To become the radiance we’ve been chasing all along?
Maybe this is why we fill our world with glitter and glass, with anything that catches and throws back the light. Each sparkle is a reminder, each shine a promise of what we might become. Our eyes seek out these scattered gems of brightness like they’re fragments of some ancient memory, calling us home to that perfect, all-consuming light.