On The Room of Infinite Possibility

I’m picturing the washer and dryer from Meow Wolf in New Mexico, where they open up to a galaxy-like tunnel of blue and purple gradients, glittering with stars and cosmic light. I imagine a room alive with that image—floating, breathing shards of color and light, each suspended with its own outcome. I call this the Room of Infinite Possibility. It’s the room I live in.

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