This photo is from that part of the microcosm where prehuman and posthuman impulses and shadows, cast by fate and destiny into hieroglyphic patterns, lounge around, tell stories, and reflect on things, until swept-up by the tides of time.
Even though these are random shadowy patterns, when the eye views them, it tries to make sense out of it all.
The original image is less than an inch square and formed by light glancing off some tinfoil. It changes as you turn it slightly, so there is nothing substantial or permanent. All you can do is take a picture, and then the subject matter is gone for good; a lesson about the cosmos.