This is the story of a boy, a boy with a dream. He spent many a night lying out under the heavens. He’d sometimes catch the glimpse of a shooting star glittering amongst the Big Dipper, other times he could sometimes make out a sparkle amongst The Twins. Little did he know the same sparkle that resonates within his eyes as deep a blue as a mid-summer morning and as green as a forest. His eyes would follow each and every movement with careful consideration and deliberation.
Every night that the stars could be seen, he’d look up at them for what seemed to be an eternity- eternity of compassion, and beauty, and art. These stars had names; names given to them from ancient civilizations, imbued with timeless stories of love, and power, and tragedy. These mythical expanses tell the tales of times long gone yet their meanings still intact. He stares up and wonders what else lay out there; unspoken, unheard, undreamed. He’d look up and the stars and wonder as if, by some miraculous consequence, he might glimpse the answers that troubled him. He was looking for answers of hope and love and passion of an otherworldly creation; hope and love and passion does not come easy in the world he lives – yet he believes. His belief is rooted not in religion, or materials, or power, but in love- love that will uplift the world and boost the bonds of mankind to art and the Passions. Yet, he had always felt like something was missing. He troubled himself through careful examination of himself and the sky; that feeling deep inside was something of the universe.