Sometimes I like to lie awake at night and imagine all my little atoms in my little atom body came from other, much cooler things than me. For example, I like to imagine that somewhere in me there is an atom that once belonged to Grace Darling, an English lighthouse keeper’s daughter who spotted the wreck and survivors of the Forfarshire in 1838, and determined it was too stormy out in the chop for a lifeboat. So she rowed out in a rowing boat with her father at great risk to herself and brought in survivors. Grace died a few short years later at the super-young age of 26 from tuberculosis, but what a woman. What a person. I like to think that one of her atoms is recycled in me.
Particulars is a game about atoms. Atoms are beautiful. Read the rest of this entry »