Some years ago, in the quiet of the night, I was woken by an unfamiliar brightness at my window. Pulling back the curtain, I saw a great white light and the silhouette of a being approaching. The next thing I knew, I found myself in a strange place — lights flickered on, and I realized I was aboard a ship unlike anything on Earth.

 

The vessel carried me across galaxies to a planet called Nebulon. There I was brought before their ruler, Nungjabah, who explained to me a curious dilemma: their only artist, a remarkable Nebulan named Zeengiro, had disappeared. He had left his homeworld to pursue a dream of playing the human guitar on the street corners of New York City, United States, Earth. In their failed search to find him, they decided to replace him. As they searched throughout our planet, they found me. By their standards, I was the closest match they could find to his gifts.

 

I was entrusted with creating art not only for the ruler’s palace, but eventually for the entire planet. The Nebulans taught me their techniques, their tools, and even shared Zeengiro’s unfinished works for me to study. In time, I began to create my own, using their metals, trees, and rare crystalline elements powered by the rays of twin suns. My work became celebrated — parades, books, and endless festivities honored me and what I had created. I was treated not as a visitor, but as one of their own.

 

And yet, even in this world of wonder, I longed for home — for my family in Quincy, California, Earth. Eventually, without farewell, I left Nebulon behind. Returning to Earth, I resolved to carry with me the skills and visions I had gained there, and to keep the spirit of Nebulon alive and share it across our world. The challenge became how to recreate Nebulan art using Earth’s materials, translating alien brilliance into human form.

 

Every piece I make now is infused with that journey — an echo of the impossible materials and cosmic methods of Nebulon, reimagined here with the tools and elements of Earth. My work is both a tribute to what I learned there and a bridge between worlds.

 

To this day, I continue my search for Zeengiro, who may still be somewhere in New York, strumming his guitar. Until then, my art serves as both remembrance and invitation — a chance for viewers to glimpse what lies beyond our skies, shaped through my hands for the human eye.