20.

Humanity has been in love with the stars for millions of years. Generations using the constellations to guide them home and lead them on their travels.

Some just admiring their beauty, some worshipping them and having them oversee their rituals bathed in moonlight.

The twinkling and flickering of the little against lights against the velvet black of space. From earth they’re so beautiful. We are enamoured with them.

But what we don’t see is that the stars are dying.

That the beauty they display is their combustion. We are so far away that by the time we witness their funeral, they are long gone.

We seem to have a habit with finding beauty in death.

We place flowers in our homes after cutting them from their home plant, all because we liked the way they looked. People falling in love with someone’s art once they’ve passed on and only doing so because of their death. Taxidermy and the preservation of insects.

Showcasing their collections to any visitors in their home.

Or finding beauty and joy from ones life once they have left this world.

Is it morbid of us to fall into this pattern? Or is it a testament to the human race that in grief and death we can find beauty?