About the Author: I remember being in my science class, and learning that the Sun was an enormous ball of liquid fire two planets away supplying heat and light to our planet. I remember adjusting my perception of enormous. I remember the sound of my teacher's voice stripping away any preconceptions of the world around me as she told me what a galaxy was and that there were billions of them free falling through space teeming with their own planetary systems. I guess I should have reacted like my classmates and associated lasers and robots or even time travel, as 80's kids could only go back to the future, with what I was hearing. I remember looking at the faces of my friends. They were a mixture of information overload and non-applicability facial expressions all waiting for recess. But not my face. By all accounts I was an anchor baby for my family, ignorant of Carl Sagan's existence or that Nietzsche had been destroyed by unrequited love or that the library of Alexandria had burned needlessly at the hands of zealots, but I somehow knew that what I was feeling had come at a great cost. I felt alone wishing I could share these things with anyone, but above all else, this anchor baby's face felt the most elating sense of humility and wonder. Around the same time, their used to be something magical that occurred right after sunset, at least magical to a nerdy nine year old. Something about certain sunsets that would make everything turn blue. It was almost as if light itself were blue. The first time I saw this phenomenon, I had just woken up from a nap, and as my mom began to serve dinner I went outside and felt that this must be what actual magic was like. I remember freaking out for my mom and dad to come see, and being too enchanted to care that they couldn't see it. I tried to get as much of the blue light on my skin as possible. The first time we drove through Arizona, on our way to San Diego for a family vacation, we crossed its desert at night. And when my dad pulled over to pee, I sleepily got out of the car to stretch my legs not knowing that I was about to see the light of billions of stars! The second I looked up I was lost in love. It was the most surreal sight I had ever seen, only, it wasn't, it was my reality. I felt triumphant for the sake of the stars. I felt like crying. I knew I couldn't share it with anyone. I remember my mind sailing out into the Universe. I remember wondering how long I'd be lost. Until now.