speck

The little black dit, or dot, is often thought of as the beginning of life. In the Old Testament when God made First Man and First Woman, he fashioned them from earth, dirt, mud, depending on which translation one reads. Among other creation stories, the beginning of the world and its inhabitants is often made from the dit, from one grain, one single tiny dark dot of something.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves.

The Big Bang that created the universe should have produced equal amounts of matter and antimatter. When a particle of matter bumps into its antimatter counterpart, the two particles annihilate. Thus, all of the matter should have annihilated all of the antimatter in a cataclysmic burst of radiation, leaving an empty universe for eternity. And yet, 13.8 billion years later, you — made of matter, not antimatter — are reading this news on a device which is also made of matter. Somehow, in the instant after the Big Bang, for each billion or so pairs of matter and antimatter, an extra particle of matter persisted.

Kenneth Chang, The New York Times 2025

concentration // explosion // obliteration

We see 'randomness,' everywhere, from the atomic to the universal, but what if we're limited by scale in our ability to see something else? Something more?

Strangers on a street corner, from a distance, appear to move at random when in reality each one is walking with intention and choice.

Cells, close up, move and activate seemingly at random when in reality they're parts of a greater, more fluid, harmonious, and systemic whole.

What if we're ants walking along a painting, perceiving 'random' brushstrokes, when in reality we're part of a bigger, greater picture beyond our comprehension?

You are the Universe, Deepak Chopra

specks, each one with depth and shadow and weight

between and beyond each one: the canvas.

something beyond, something bigger

No philosopher can explain the sublime better than this, standing between day and night. It was as if this were the moment God said, 'Let there be light!" You could not help but feel your specklike existence against the immensity of the mountain, the earth, the universe, and yet still feel your own two feet on the talus, reaffirming your presence amid the grandeur.

When Breath Becomes Air, Paul Kalanithi

in search of a specklike existence

a church of dots

a religion of specks