We float between material and subtle bodies on a daily basis. Every day, every moment, and every breath. Going through a day, a moment, a breath; we are surviving Where are we going? To death? To the light? To fulfill a purpose in life? We dance between internal & external turmoils; disturbances. We disturb and are disturbed within and between. A Kuzu/a piece has fallen off from the sky like star-dust. Tiny useless particles of the Universe falling to the earth to do something; to share, to serve, to offer, the gifts of this transient life. What action will we take in this given life? Someday, we will go back to our home, the universe. | Photo by Erik Bergrin Kuzu: it means a tiny piece in Japanese, trash, dust. As a slang, we use as "garbage of a society" or "failure from the society or failure of a humanity = asshole" Stardust=Hoshi Kuzu |
Photography by Krzysztof Sienkiewicz