Letters to Star
You may not always be aware of it, but, you are constantly being guided. Letters to star are little reminders that you are not here by chance.
Star was raised by her great grandmother in a small village of no more than 500 people. Like her name, she spoke the language of the stars. They told her tales of mermaids beneath the seas and fairies beyond the forests. What intrigued her the most were stories about girls who had become women of influence in cities that never slept.
At 18, all alone and for the first time in her young life, she flew to the other side of the world. The first to graduate from university. The first to have a corner office…and a secretary. Things she had only ever read about.
You could say she had it all. Still, an emptiness that she could not name persisted to haunt her. Until one day: “…it hurts. It hurts all over. Hiding who you are deeply hurts, but you are afraid of what it means to show yourself,” fading blue ink on worn paper, the note gracefully tumbled to her feet.
Lesedi.
This was the first of these notes that began to find her in places she searched for herself. An ancestral call back to the home she had traded for fools gold: glittering lights, drunken nights, superficial conversations. Oh, she did so much to fit into this world that buried her heart alive. Suffocated beneath layers of voices telling her how to be and who to be, she was dying to remember the taste of her essence.
A prominent use of Red: a reminder that you are not here by chance.
Images: Constance Stuart Larrabbee, Khumo ya Seamogano
Words: Khumo ya ga Seamogano