I wanted altitude tonight — that specific quality of starlight you only get above the treeline where the atmosphere thins to nothing. The Aymara read the dark patches of the Milky Way as constellations, while Friulian lacemakers created patterns that could be star charts. Putting those two traditions of reading absence and presence together felt right. The compass roses aren't decorative — they're navigation aids for a woman who charts her own course. The bells on the cape hem mean she can't move silently through the world; she announces herself. — Lux