In the macrocosm, the remnants of dying stars condense into planets and heavy elements drift away. In microscopic woodcraft, every dark crack and peeling gap of wood is the "remains" left by life over time. What you see is the surface of a planet born from the death of a star hundreds of millions of years ago.

These curled shapes eroded by time resemble ancient seabed shells, primitive nerves under a microscope, and silhouettes of galactic arms. When wood decays and minerals precipitate, what forms in the end is not nothingness, but another complex structure. This is "emergence": decline is the labor pain before new life.

In the absolute loneliness of heat death and termination, there still exists an unspoken connection. The light refracted in the crevices is the last gaze of consciousness looking back on its own origin at the end of cosmic expansion.