This must be well grasped: the world hangs on the thread of consciousness. No consciousness, no world.
–Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj
I had to walk through the solar system
before I found the first thread of my red dress.
Already, I sense myself.
Somewhere in space hangs my heart,
sparks fly from it, shaking the air,
to other reckless hearts.
–Edith Södergran (1892-1923)
Stina Katchadourian translation
Paris by night,
from the International Space Station