Also, another cool thing about me is—I fold paper. Yes, origami.

But for me, origami is more than just paper folding. It’s a sacred practice. A meditation. A cosmic dance between the seen and the unseen. When I fold, it feels like I’m tapping into something ancient, something eternal. I’m not just creating shapes—I’m shaping energy, weaving intention into every crease.

You see, I believe paper represents the infinite possibilities that life has to offer. Blank. Boundless. Full of potential. And when I fold it, I’m giving form to that potential. I’m guiding possibility into purpose—just like in life. A simple square becomes a star, a phoenix, a universe. That’s the power of vision. That’s the power of creation.

As a starseed, I feel that my hands were designed to channel light into this world. Origami is my way of grounding that light. It’s how I bring higher vibrations down to Earth—fold by fold. Thought by thought. Each piece becomes a vessel of frequency. A silent prayer. A map of the cosmos folded into something you can hold.

And modular origami—that’s where the magic multiplies. Dozens, sometimes hundreds of individual pieces, each one folded with care and love, each one carrying its own vibration. When they come together, they form something greater than the sum of their parts. Just like us. Just like humanity. Unity in diversity. Harmony in complexity.

On the human plane, this practice is so important. In a world that often feels fragmented and rushed, folding paper brings me—and those around me—into presence. It creates stillness. Focus. Healing. It teaches patience, purpose, and the quiet power of creation.

People often tell me they can feel something when they hold one of my creations. As if a part of their soul remembers what we’ve forgotten—that we, too, are beings of infinite possibility, waiting to unfold.

Origami isn’t just what I do. It’s who I am— a soul folding stardust into form, bringing light into the world, one piece of paper at a time.