Particles of Light

Things scientists should tell you when they give you your labs

by Corey Saucier

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Three billion light years away there is a blue white dwarf star that is dying. It is burning itself super nova. It will explode, it will die, and in another three billion years it will be made into another star. Because nothing in the universe disappears. Everything is connected: Everything that is, has always been—and will always be. Energy and matter and ideas DO NOT DIE! They just reimagine themselves…. But before that star goes black enough for gravity to pull its light back, its last burst of white travels from galaxy, to constellation, to solar system, to this little old cluster of rock where it finds me naked on a stage in Hollywood.

I am dressed in jeans and a backwards cap, and I am wearing my favorite blue canvas shoes…but I am naked just the same. And the spotlight is bright and pink and blinding; and my heart is beating a Taiko beat…and I am casting a blood spell with words and song and the archaic cryptography communicated with a gesticulation of the fingers and the arch of an eyebrow that only performers know. I am an HIV-positive, Black, Queer, Gay, Fem, Bottom, Cis performer. And the audience is mine. And the bones in my face have started to change shape; and the dead are resurrected at the call of my voice; and yellow, pink, and purple glowing butterflies have appeared out of thin air, and are fluttering around the back room of the theater/bar. And suddenly, time and place don’t matter, and I am alone on a stage—three billion miles away—telling a story about a bathhouse, and a boy and his mother, and the existence of God. And God is there somewhere in the back seat. And the audience is watching me burn bright blue white light, go super nova, die, and then turn black enough to pull my light back…and the stage goes dark. I bow goodnight. And the room explodes into applause.

And I am alive again.

Because nothing here ceases to exist; it just begins to become again.

I believe that we are meant to create. We are meant to imagine. We are meant to perform things on a stage. I believe that we are creatures with the spark of the Divine designed into our back pockets: We are meant to do great and magical things! And we are also meant to crash and burn sometimes. Lately I’ve been making things happen: Saying yes to projects, and collaborating with anyone who will ask: Writing scripts with trans guys in New York, performing on stages all over L.A., doing guest bits alongside television stars, writing in homemade production workshops with some of “Hollywood Up and Coming Creatives,” and just generally trying to be an all-around bad ass…. And I’m feeling good about it. (And yup, I’m still writing that got-dang Great American Novel—I keep telling myself that “brilliance” takes time. It’s been four years.)

But the best part is that I AM HERE and able to do it. This is what it means to be alive! This is what it means to have your hat in the ring—to have blood pumping through your veins. This is what it means to be made of stars… It means that (little ole) you gets to alter the trajectory of light and literally reconstruct the molecules of the Universe. And yet some of us are sitting in our apartments worried scared about what some anonymous stranger on the Internet three Billion miles away thinks about our T-cell count. Or our disease—or our race—or our penis size—or our X and Y chromosome make up…or any other little bit of dust particles.

My mother died from eating too much sugar, well not really; but kind of. And a distant friend of mine relapsed on crystal meth, and then mysteriously ceased to exist, well not really; but kind of. And on the news every day there is some ridiculous gun atrocity that takes out dozens upon dozens at a time… It’s awful and tragic.

Anyone of us can go at any time, for any reason—and here we are, with this little tiny disease, that eats away at our T cells. But it hasn’t taken us yet. WE ARE STILL HERE! And we can still take the world by storm.

So what are you going to do about it? What magic are you going to make? What spell are you in the process of casting?

Love and Light.


Corey Saucier is an artist and writer living in Los Angeles. He is a Lambda Literary Fellow in Fiction and Non-Fiction and is currently penning his first novel. His musings and wanderings on Love, Life, and Nonsense can be found at www.justwords.tumblr.com.