aurorae

May 20

When I was a child, my mother would wake me up on in the middle of the night to go watch at meteor showers. We would drive, in near-darkness, with only the headlights on the road as we left the ridgetop. It was usually just her and I, the low hum of the car, and the smell of warm coffee or hot chocolate. We drove a few minutes to the Ponderosa truck stop, which usually was closed this time of night. It was one of the highest points around us with a dark sky and no tree cover. It was there that she showed me the Universe.

I would watch the “stars” shooting across the sky. The Perseids, especially, was a favorite shower. It was magical, and also magical to share that time with my mother— knowing her time was often limited with work and other obligations. I knew she sacrificed sleep and other things just to bring me this small joy. But, in those moments in the deep dark, it was just her, me, and everything else surrounding us and keeping us whole.

I would encounter that feeling of being one with the universe many other times throughout my life. Most of my life I have had aeropsia, or “visual snow.” It is unfortunate because it is extremely difficult to see the stars as a result of the visual phenomenon. I can’t ever see actual darkness— it is always filled with specks of dull colors (often in rapid movement)— specks that increase as I encounter lower light conditions.

The first time I saw the Milky Way I was 34 years old, laying in an open field with my lover, experiencing it (and each other) for the first time. The second time, a few years later, I was standing in the desert at Joshua Tree alone, in the chill of a winter’s night, watching the fabric of the cosmos unfold before me. The static was still there, but the fact that I could see it at all either time was thrilling.

As a child, I was always interested in the natural world. Science was my favorite subject, and I found myself keenly fascinated by chemistry, geology, and physics in general. I was an autodidact, pouring over books and manuscripts at a very young age. With many subjects I am self-taught, for when I couldn’t find adequate information, I would rely on books to teach myself how to do something (which is how I ended up teaching myself basic rocket science, for example.) I know a few things about many things. I have an insatiable curiosity for the world around me and an uncommonly restless spirit that keeps me bouncing around from hobbies and places. My biggest disappointment in life was realizing that there is not enough time to do everything or see everything. If I had the ability to live forever, I gladly would choose to.

That spiritedness, or restlessness, is a blessing and a curse. Because “slow living” requires us to slow down and live in the present moment, yet I am racing toward the future and not very interested in slowing down. Knowing time is finite is a more difficult concept to wrestle with. I don’t want to seem morbid and say that I think about dying every day, but I am very conscious of what is and isn’t getting done each day, which gives me a simple awareness that a doomsday clock is ticking somewhere. I am adventurous and come from a very long line of explorers and trailblazers. It is partly why I think I have lived so many “lives” in my life so far. It is difficult to settle down, to limit movement, to be bound by the confines of what often feels like a cage. Many times I have made decisions that caused me to encounter that. One of my biggest unspoken fears these days is the feeling of being wholly possessed by something or someone, so I avoid connection on many levels as a result of this.

When I was younger, I would often visit my great-grandmother. She was one of the most dynamic people I have ever known. A strong, independent Aries, she was a trailblazer who was a talented journalist, one of the first police women, and incredibly gifted artistically. I always enjoyed my time with her and oddly enough much of that time was spent living slowly. We would sit out on front stoop of her home and watch the squirrels and birds. She named them and would speak to them. I remember laying on a blanket in the grass watching the quality of light as the sunlight would filter through the trees. It was a slower way of living, of evaluating the world around me, and the feeling of being small within the universe really resonated with me. It seems fundamentally odd to feel safety in my own insignificance, yet there is some relief in feeling like I am a very small part in someone much larger. There is far less pressure when you learn to let go of your own ego.

My great-grandmother had many hobbies, but a favorite of mine was her fascination with nature. She loved the natural world and often wrote stories and poems about different aspects of nature. I remember she would take out wooden cigar boxes and show me the butterflies cleanly mounted inside. I remember the scent of the dust that lingered in the air when the boxes were opened— the smell of butterfly dust that even now I feel like I remember very clearly.

She had a friend (likely a boyfriend, although she was mum about it when we teased her about it) for a while who explored all over the world. He would visit sometimes and, knowing I loved fossils, would bring a collection of relics he had collected over his lifetime. On the stoop, he would hand me different rocks and fossils and tell me all about where he found them, what they were, how old they were, etc. I was enthralled. There was something to be admired about someone who, once his kids were grown, spent the rest of his life doing all of the things he wanted to do.

I think about that quite a bit as I am getting older. What do you want to see while you are here? I think the biggest disappointment I had as a child was realizing that I couldn’t do everything or go everywhere. As a child, you always think you have plenty of time and energy to do everything, but as you get older you start to really feel the gravity of time as is seems to blend into everything else. There is little thought more sobering than that of realizing there are limitations to everything. It becomes increasingly important to make every moment count.

I’ve been listing some things I would like to do or places I would like to go and wanted to share some of those. What about you? I would love to hear your thoughts/goals/etc.

AURORA BOREALIS | Iceland, Faroe Islands, Norway, or Yukon

The highest item on my list is to go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. While we did have a preview of the aurora recently in Florida, it would be awesome to see it in person, especially in contrast to black sand shorelines. I also want to hike to see volcanoes, waterfalls, hot springs, and fjords, so I am definitely interested in traveling anywhere from Yukon to Norway really to see all of the sights.

ARTISTS PALETTE | Death Valley, CA

WHITE SANDS NATIONAL PARK | Nevada

SEQUOIA NATIONAL FOREST | California

MONUMENT VALLEY | Arizona

TORRES DEL PAINE NATIONAL PARK | Patagonian Chile

ORADOUR-SUR-GLANE | France

When I was in Architecture school, we spent one semester focusing on places of memory. The Holocaust touched many places throughout the world, but one that really was heart-wrenching to me was this place. Reading what was endured and the strength/courage of the people who inhabited it touched my soul in profound ways. I would truly like to visit there one day and pay respects to those who suffered the atrocities that occurred there.

**CAPPADOCIA NATIONAL PARK** | TURKIYE

I love archaeology, history, and geology, so visiting Turkey makes sense because there is so much to explore.

**CLIFFS OF MOHER** | *County Galway, Ireland*

I made it to the Northern point of Scotland when I visited the UK, but Ireland is definitely still on my list to visit.

**BAFFIN BAY |** Canadian Arctic / Greenland

Every since I was little and encountered Beattie’s “Buried in Ice” at our Scholastic Book Fair, I have been fascinated by the story of the Franklin Expedition to find the Northwest Passage (my entire tattoo sleeve is dedicated to it, in fact. The story was incredibly tragic, but just the extent of human endurance in the face of adversity is always so impressive to me. There were no survivors, but the lengths they went to in order to survive against all odds was incredible.

**BAALBEK |** *Lebanon*

Our family has genetic ties throughout the region. I would love to visit and see where we came from (and eat traditional food because it is, unsurprisingly, my favorite food.)

**MOSTAR |** Bosnia + Herzegovina

My family also has very strong genetic ties to Bosnia. I would love to explore it and see where I come from.

**MONGOLIA**
I think it would be an amazing journey to see many sights in Mongolia. I also love archery and falconry, so it would be cool to watch some people in action that are so incredibly talented in those popular fields.

**HAWA MAHAL PALACE |** *Jaipur, Rajasthan*

**ALHAMBRA |** *Granada, Andalusia, Spain*

**YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK |** *Wyoming*

Taylor P.

Architectural designer for form & function architecture, creative director for tamer animals, co-pilot of camp wrenwood, author/illustrator, musician (idol heart,) mom, space ace for Orion think.lab, northern soul, + vintage fashion enthusiast in Asheville, NC. ♡

aurorae

ritual.