Cathedral Carved by Children of Light I wanted to show how newborn stars become architects, carving their own sanctuary from the very cloud that made them: a buttressed pillar, an ionization rind like a sanctified threshold, and an oculus of white-gold lights presiding over the nave of void. Here I ask what silence feels like when it is warm—how negative space, dark matter’s bending veil, and an amber photon pool can hold the ache of creation without a sound. The forms were chosen to make scale and stillness collide: fluted stone-like gas for gravity, glassy caustic arcs for the unseen, and drifting porcelain rinds for the fragile edge where breath becomes flame.