We want to call out to the wild, to scream over a valley and make our voices reach the stars. We want to find the source of something primal, the source of what vibrates deep within our bones. We want the call of the wild.


We are stargazers. We are in love with the ineffable. We are in love with the cosmos. Somewhere in the vastness of interstellar space is a tiny blue marble spinning, magnetized and orbiting a star. We look up in the fall at the milky way, showering in cosmic rays, we feel the vertigo of hanging upside down on monkey bars as children. We ask ourselves, well, how did we get here? So we gaze harder into the sky, ourselves, and use instruments that view beyond the limits of our eyes. We are looking for love and romance. We call out into the cosmic wild. We yearn to explore, we yearn for zero gravity, we yearn for magic. We light cigarettes with the sun, we x­ray ourselves holding objects from space and we dance into the morning waiting for the sun to come back.


We want to address man’s innate vigor to know and conquer that which lies beyond our comprehension and perception, specifically in relationship to the cosmos. Just as Apollo 8 captured Earthrise and gave the public a new awareness of our place in the universe, we want to present the wonder of the cosmos, laid at your feet, conquered.