The Beginning of Darkness and Light

About twelve millennia ago, when the Sahara was a green valley filled with water, and when the stars were still seen as living, breathing beings, the first humans of the pre-Egyptian civilization recorded something beyond our understanding. They drew on the rocks, on the dry, cracked walls of the desert, images of beings from the sky – tall, thin, long-headed, eyes as deep as the abyss of space. They were called “Sons of Sirius,” beings who were said to carry the fire of knowledge, the light that ushered in the age of consciousness.

When modern archaeologists first discovered this fresco, they thought it was just a religious symbol. But as the light filters through the millennial dust, the details emerge – the intertwined hands of human and alien, the caressing gestures, the transmission – all seem to tell of another beginning: the beginning of a fusion between humanity and the spirits of the universe.

The Shape of Wisdom and Love

In the painting, the beings with long, slender heads and slanted eyes are not invaders, but guides. They do not come to dominate, but to teach humans about the energy, sound, and rhythm of the soul. They touch the human woman – the symbol of Earth, of fertility – and through her, a new life is born, carrying both the memory of the stars and the blood of the earth.

The second painting, covered by time and sin, shows an embrace between a human and a green creature – both loving and fearful. Some scholars hypothesize that this is a metaphor for the genetic fusion between humans and cosmic enтιтies, the beginning of a new evolutionary step of intelligence. But others say: it is simply a symbol of humans rediscovering the “alien” part of themselves – the soul that fell to Earth from distant stars.

Echoes of Sirius

Sirius – the brightest star in the night sky – has long been the subject of legend. The Dogon people of West Africa say their ancestors came from this star system, bringing with them astronomical knowledge thousands of years ahead of their time. The ancient Egyptians called Sirius Sopdet, the star that signaled the flooding of the Nile, the source of life for all living things. And if all civilizations point in the same direction – is it possible that in the collective memory of humanity, we still remember those who came from that light?

Quantum physicists say that time is an illusion, and all memories of the universe coexist. Perhaps these paintings are not just records of the past – but also memories of the future, where humans realize they are not alone, where the universe and the soul are two sides of the same enтιтy.

The Myth of Unity

When we look at the hands in this painting – the hands held together between human and alien – we see more than a gesture of intimacy. We see an ancient promise: that wisdom cannot exist without compᴀssion, that the knowledge of the universe can only be unlocked when humans love enough to understand themselves.

The love in this myth is not lust, but a unifying energy – something every religion, every philosophy tries to describe. When two worlds meet, not to destroy, but to create a new form of existence – both visible and invisible, both human and divine.

Memories Remain in the Sand

Today, when the wind blows through the ancient ruins, we hear only echoes – faint, distant, a reminder that human evolution is not only biological but also spiritual. Perhaps the “aliens” in the paintings never left. Perhaps they are still here, in every particle of DNA, in every dream, in the call of the stars that we look up to every night.

These paintings do not ask us to believe. They ask us to remember. To remember that before we learned to conquer the world, we knew how to harmonize with the universe. To remember that before we called others “alien,” we were part of them.