I used to call myself an astrogeek.

this is probably the most literal interpretation I've ever made of that title.

for halloween, I was a star-forming nebula.
after all, star formation and the interstellar medium were always my favorite parts of astronomy.



"what would you do if I grew stars all over my face for real?"
"I would still love you with the stars, but I'd tell you to go have it looked at."









"who would look at it, though?"









"probably a dermatologist."
"not an astronomer? I want to see an astronomy doctor."
"it could be a dermatologist who does astronomy on the side."









"oh! that's what I should go to grad school for."

(because, you know, starskin is an important scientific problem.)









pink is for hydrogen gas, orange is for hot molecular clouds, purple is for x-rays.
black is for dust filaments (and empty space), and the stars are... stars.









nebulae are very glowy and swirly, you know.









as we say: baby stars, baby.









I got the orange scarf from a tiny boutique in the east village.
the proprietress said she was proud of my creative costuming.









the pink scarf came from her, too.
all the other filmy tulle stuff is from old dance costumes, reborn.









these stars are leftovers from my best housewarming gift.
as I undressed after the parade, I stuck them to my closet doors.









I did such a good job of being ephemerally nebulous, I almost made my arm disappear.









(admittedly, I also looked something like an '80s cartoon character.)









(or, perhaps, e.t. at a rave.)









the halloween aftermath. the entire floor of my apartment is still rather sparkly.









& don't forget: we are all made of stars.







wockerjabby