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arcs

stellar winds
 
the journey into my plastic constellation begins, as most journeys do, in the middle of something immense. there is a distinct aurora that fogs everything but a splash of arcs, paths spreading toward some mystic vista.
fracture
 
some paths are fractured, some create fragments out of gases and water and other inexplicaple galactic aethers.
refraction
 
light passing through and around materials is transfigured, and sometimes distorted.
saturn's rings
 
star trails leave reflections, intimations of something solid.

 

ghosts
 
and then appear true ghosts.

All images and text © 2015 by Emma Ignaszewski

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