I was riding on an air plane from the end of the map, or perhaps an end of the map, to Pittsburgh thinking of how to tell you this story. This particular end of the map is located at the NorthWest most point in Washington State, and there are two very satisfying things about it. One; is that it has a rainbow totem at the beach there. And the other is that it is so misty that when you stand with your back to the rainbow totem and look out into the rest of the world, there is just a smooth even keel gradient, the kind your graphics card likes to render when you get to the end of the map, fading by steps, into a single color.
And so I am flying from there to here watching the stars above as the lights from the cities below flicker past. The stars below are so numerous they are occluding the stars above. To get to Pittsburg and tell you a story I have to fly through a fold of stars mirroring stars, twirling around each other, endlessly. We love the stars so much we are making our earth look as tho she is covered in them. The light coming from them reflects in the atmosphere and creates a nice even keel gradient fading by step by step, into a single color, making a kind of end of the map when you look up at the sky.
And so the stars are slowly falling to the earth, and I sit there in this moment, slowed down in time in a freeze frame of a giant explosion. It will take many more years for the stars to finish their descent, and meanwhile, I fly back and forth in between time zones and in between the Sky and the Earth.
The man next to me is picking out letters on a screen of jumbled text to make words, and the one behind me is stroking cartoon jewels. Every time one of these men makes a successful stroke a little plunk sound comes from one and a bing sound comes from the other. I am trapped in what would be a flying casino if you went by the sounds. There is nowhere for me to go and there is no end to the gameplay they have bound themselves into. My phone and laptop batteries are dead. And so I look into the thin horizon line of light between Earth and Sly and I start to imagine I fall asleep, and have a dream.
In my dream I see a great bird lay a golden egg into the horizon between stars and stars. As she lays the egg she becomes the fabric of the universe. The egg contains Birth and Love. Together they grow and break out of the egg into the empty universe around the fold. Together they make Earth and Sky.
They make the stars from birth’s eyes, and the darkness between them from his thoughts. They make the wind from his breath and snow and hail from his tears. Sky and Earth together make all the things we see around us. And somehow in this process Sky loses Earth tho she is right there in front of him. Sky searches the Earth for Earth but does not see her. In the distance he notices a little grey duck swimming above a dark hole in the water. He asks the duck if she has seen the Earth. Duck says that she’s down at the bottom of the Ocean. Sky asks the duck to go get her. The duck disappears and returns a year later saying that she couldn’t hold her breath any longer and asks for help. So Sky calls for Birth’s help, who blows a mighty wind, stirring up the Ocean, and the duck dives back down.
Two years pass and the duck returns saying, “I got closer this time but still ran out of breath.”
So Sky calls upon Birth, who brings a storm upon the ocean and shoots lightning into the duck.
Cyberorgduck dives down and is gone for 3 years.
After 3 years the duck returns with a branch in her mouth.
Sky takes the branch, rubbing it in his palms begins to command the forces of the world:
“Make warmth, Sun! Light up, Moon! Blow, Wind!”
All the elements come together, the wind blows the branch from Sky’s hands.
As it falls into the ocean, the sun shins, heating the ocean, as the water evaporates the Moist Earth appears at the surface.
So do the Earth and Sky live happily ever after? What part does the Ocean really play in all this? And what ever happened to love?
I found my dream rather suspicious and started to wonder how to break through this fourth wall of solid color that seems to insist on making it self present at the edge of perceptions.
And here my plane started banking and descending, descending below the horizon line onto the Earth’s surface yet again. I haven’t seen the stars since then for the city’s glow, and I wonder what combination of jewels I need to stroke or words I need to string to get past the horizon line and keep going? Is the space between stars really comprised of thoughts? And will I find pieces of golden egg shells when I wander through them?