Witch photographer

Being timeless, dimensionless, locationless, non-corporeal entities. You should ask where space fairies came from. They are, after all, utterly different from anything we understand.

Simply, they are from another universe. First, I’ll explain multiverses…

During the Big Bang, space itself expanded faster than the speed of light, creating bubbles of space-time that eventually became separate universes. One of which we are at home. The others are a little different. Though they are all connected through black hole singularities. Like how bubbles are connected in the foam of your beer.

Out of the millions of billions of zillions of possible universes where matter is a tad different. Where the speed of light is slower or a little bit faster. Where our current understanding of physics varies this way or that. Where E=mc² and all the other equations are a little odd, to our eyes, to our brains and where it would be impossible for our bodies to exist at all — the wrong sort of matter. Our atoms: little itty bitty particles and that fussy Higgs field that gives everything, that needs it, weight. None of the atoms in our comfy slippers fits anywhere but within our particular Goldilocks universe.

No, they’re not from there. Not from any of those universes. Though, they were there, at the Big Bang. Our Big Bang. Shaping, guiding, gardening.

Space fairies are from one of the impossible, incomprehensible, bonkers universes. One of those infinite universes we simply cannot even imagine. Where there is no energy, nor matter. No light, nor time. Where our E=mc² is zero=zero x zero². Where all our clever equations are a jumble of rubbish.

There, they are at home. In their comfy slippers.

At times, during this assignment, I found my head exploding, like a really big inhalation of poppers.

No, not from actual amyl nitrate mixing in from my air supply, but from the sheer mind exploding facts, right here, in front of my eyes. Like fireworks, inside my eyes. Like hot and cold flushes bursting through my heart. Like everything I remember, my dogs, my children, my house and the overgrown lawn and market stall on a rainy Tuesday. Bursting into their constituent molecules, atoms, electrons and the insty bity bits that they’re made of, too, bursting into yet more insty wincy bity bits. And for those utterly tiny, utterly insignificant subatomic particles: muons, gluons, leptons to be here, every single one, now, being forged, cast, moulded, hammered, conjured into existence.

Each and every one. Of my dogs, my children, my lawn, the single raindrop on top of my market stall. Everything we see today, planets, stars, galaxies, is squashed into an even smaller size than a fraction of a fraction of a billionth of an atom. Here, in this fraction of a fraction of a billionth of a second, space fairies are hard at work bringing order to the universe.

I swallow and think, “no shame in being freaked out.”
This is the start of the universe, my universe, after all.