Stardust

As the astrophysicist Hubert Reeves wrote, and his counterpart Carl Sagan proclaimed: “we are all stardust.” Born of the primordial fire, of the shards of dying stars and the celestial mists, we carry within us the secret of galaxies. This painting whispers it with brilliance: incandescent clouds rising like waves, halos opening onto the unseen vastness, and everywhere, stardust, seed of infinity. Each spark seems to say: “Nothing is lost. All is transformed. You are what was, you are what shall be.” Thus, in this cosmic dance, we recognize both our origin and our destiny. “Stardust” is not merely the English translation of “Poussière d’étoile,” it is a truth murmured by the stars themselves: we are fragments of Light, temporarily exiled on Earth, awaiting our return.

I dedicate this painting to Mister Hubert Reeves (RIP), through whom I learned to better understand the sky in its literal sense, even as its figurative meaning has inspired and enthralled me for as long as I can remember… Thank you.