In my life there are two positions I occupy that can seem, at the same time commonplace and extraordinary: my place in a family as a father and husband, and my place in the universe. This dichotomy—the way that a moonrise or the birth of a child can be so very common and yet, feel so heartbreakingly unique—is a particular condition of our post-enlightenment knowledge of the world. We are aware of what makes us small, what makes us ordinary, even insignificant, but we can’t fight the sensation that the things we see, feel and do are worthy of consideration. It is why we love, why we fight, why we get up to face a new day: because of an unfounded belief that our place in the universe is rare and unrepeatable. This work lies at the intersection of these two worlds, where the eternal and infinite can be found in a yard in Mesa.