The stone sat atop her workspace as it has for years, she felt a strange connection between it and herself now. Though she could not be sure, she wondered if this and the strange substance, given to her so long ago, had the same origin. Sitting next to it she began to file small pieces of the meteorite into her mortar and pestle, crushing them and mixing them into her paint. Once she began, she often found herself moving into a trance-like state as she interacted with the canvas. Her brush seemed to take on a life of its own as it sped across the white surface, knowing what it was painting before she did. This had been the case since she first touched the fallen star, her paintings were no longer of her surroundings, but of distant places she had never seen and people she had never met.