Cosmic Milk
This is what the ancient world knew: milk isn't just biological—it's universal. The same substance that nourishes infants connects galaxies. Milk is stardust made liquid, cosmic matter flowing between bodies made of the same atoms that built the universe. Two figures suspended in space, throats exposed, drinking starlight. This isn't nursing—this is communion with the infinite. Hair dissolves into nebulae. Skin becomes constellation. The milk flowing between them isn't just theirs—it's the Milky Way itself, the great river of light our ancestors saw stretching across the night sky and named after the very substance that kept their children alive. The Greeks knew: The Milky Way formed when Hera's breast milk sprayed across the heavens. Egyptians knew: Isis nursed Horus with celestial milk that granted divinity. Every culture that looked up knew: milk and cosmos are one substance wearing different forms. This artwork reclaims that ancient knowing. When you nurse, you're not just feeding—you're channeling the same creative force that births stars, builds galaxies, and holds the universe together. You're participating in the oldest ritual there is: matter sharing itself with matter, bodies recognizing they're made of the same stuff, connection revealing that separation was always illusion. Cosmic Milk: Because the distance between breast and mouth is no different than the distance between star and star. It's all gravity, all grace, all the same substance flowing in circles that never end.
Cosmic Milk
This is what the ancient world knew: milk isn't just biological—it's universal. The same substance that nourishes infants connects galaxies. Milk is stardust made liquid, cosmic matter flowing between bodies made of the same atoms that built the universe. Two figures suspended in space, throats exposed, drinking starlight. This isn't nursing—this is communion with the infinite. Hair dissolves into nebulae. Skin becomes constellation. The milk flowing between them isn't just theirs—it's the Milky Way itself, the great river of light our ancestors saw stretching across the night sky and named after the very substance that kept their children alive. The Greeks knew: The Milky Way formed when Hera's breast milk sprayed across the heavens. Egyptians knew: Isis nursed Horus with celestial milk that granted divinity. Every culture that looked up knew: milk and cosmos are one substance wearing different forms. This artwork reclaims that ancient knowing. When you nurse, you're not just feeding—you're channeling the same creative force that births stars, builds galaxies, and holds the universe together. You're participating in the oldest ritual there is: matter sharing itself with matter, bodies recognizing they're made of the same stuff, connection revealing that separation was always illusion. Cosmic Milk: Because the distance between breast and mouth is no different than the distance between star and star. It's all gravity, all grace, all the same substance flowing in circles that never end.
