Lowell Observatory honored me with an asteroid: 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23) after the I ❤ Pluto Festival

My friend, Kevin Schindler, presenting me with the map of the orbit of asteroid 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23) on Saturday, Feb. 15, 2025. Kevin first invited me to perform at I ❤ Pluto Festival in 2023, then again in 2024. This year, he told me Alan Stern, Ph.D. from the New Horizons mission to Pluto, and Adam Nimoy were going to be the guests and asked if I wanted to write two poems, so I wrote two new pieces "The New Horizon" and "The Most Human," which I debuted at the festival. (Note Kevin's custom Pluto tie).

Arizona State Rep. Justin Wilmeth [District 2], Astronomy magazine editor-in-chief David Eicher, comet hunter David Levy and Christopher Fox Graham at Lowell Observatory with the map of the orbit of asteroid 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23) on Saturday, Feb. 15, 2025.

I performed two poems at Lowell Observatory's annual I ❤ Pluto Festival last night at the Orpheum Theatre.  I wrote two new pieces "The New Horizon," about Leonard Nimoy and his role as Spock, and "The Most Human,"  about the New Horizon mission to Pluto.

The featured guests were Adam Nimoy, a television director and son of the late actor Leonard Nimoy; Alan Stern, Ph.D., Principal Investigator of the New Horizons Mission to Pluto; comet-hunter David Levy, who co-discovered Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 (D/1993 F2) with Flagstaff scientists Gene and Carolyn Shoemaker. Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 famously broke apart in July 1992 and its pieces slammed into Jupiter in July 1994, the first collision of two of extraterrestrial Solar System objects that was direct observable.

Adam Nimoy speaking about his father, Leonard Nimoy and his new book, "The Most Human: Reconciling with My Father, Leonard Nimoy."

Adam Nimoy, David Levy, Alan Stern, Ph.D., and David Eicher, from left, on stage at the Orpheum Theater in Flagstaff.

Alan Stern, Ph.D., answering an audience question about the New Horizons mission to Pluto.

Nimoy, Stern and Levy participated in a discussion on how scientific exploration inspires humanity moderated by David Eicher, editor-in-chief of Astronomy magazine.

Adam Nimoy and Christopher Fox Graham after I ❤ Pluto Festival giving the Vulcan Salute

Alan Stern and Christopher Fox Graham after I ❤ Pluto Festival giving the Pluto Salute

After the event, a number of us -- Nimoy, Levy, Eicher, my good friend Lowell Observatory Historian and Public Information Officer Kevin Schindler, Chief Marketing Officer Cody Half-Moon and Arizona State Rep. Justin Wilmeth [District 2], who wrote the bill the named Pluto as Arizona's Official State Planet in 2024 -- headed over Lowell Observatory's Giovale Open Deck Observatory to look through telescopes at Mars, Jupiter, the Moon and the Orion Nebula. The staff stayed after hours to keep the GODO in place so we could use the telescopes.

Giovale Open Deck Observatory

Afterward, as Levy, Eicher, Wilmeth and I were walking back to the parking lot, Kevin said he had a gift for me ...

... an asteroid!

29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23)

According to the description:

"29722 Chrisgraham" was discovered Jan. 14, 1999, by LONEOS at Anderson Mesa. Christopher Fox Graham (b. 1979) is an American journalist and longtime managing editor of Sedona Red Rock News. He is a nationally-recognized slam poet who has written and performed multiple poems about Pluto and other space themes."

It's 4 to 5 kilometers in diameter, orbiting the sun in just over 1,552 days, or 4.249 years.

Current location of asteroid 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23)

It has an inclination of 14.70 degrees from the ecliptic:

Asteroid 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23) is off the ecliptic by 14.70 degrees

And an orbital eccentricity of 0.123 (0 being a perfect circle, 1 being a parabola; e.g., Earth has an eccentricity of 0.016709 while Halley's comet has an eccentricity of 0.96658):

Huge thanks to Larry Wasserman, Ph.D., the longtime Lowell Observatory astronomer who maintains the Asteroid Orbital Elements Database and sends nominations for asteroid names to the International Astronomical Union.

Special thanks to Kevin Schindler (obviously) and Justin Wilmeth, David Levy and David Eicher for being part of our impromptu celebration.

Track asteriod 29722 Chrisgraham (1999 AQ23) here: ssd.jpl.nasa.gov/tools/sbdb_lookup.html 

Osculating Orbital Elements

Epoch 2460800.5 (2025-May-05.0) TDB
Reference: JPL 57 (heliocentric IAU76/J2000 ecliptic)

Element	Value	Uncertainty (1-sigma)	Units
e	0.123863053596922	6.4653E-10
a	2.623394965358557	6.7557E-10	au
q	2.298453254158455	1.64E-9	au
i	14.70847304577334	3.2354E-8	deg
node	135.1805250376861	1.8459E-7	deg
peri	98.0162157504617	3.36E-7	deg
M	354.1630116692738	4.4962E-7	deg
tp	2460825.664034520440 2025-May-30.16403452	1.9454E-6	TDB
period	1552.007972959458 4.249166250402348	5.995E-7 1.6413e-9	d y
n	0.2319575712704176	8.96E-11	deg/d
Q	2.948336676558659	7.5925E-10	au

Huge thanks to Kevin and his team at Lowell Observatory who run an amazing event: Chief Marketing Officer Cody Half-Moon, Marketing Operations Coordinator Heather Craig, Communication Designer Alex Elbert, Brand Manager Sarah Gilbert and Content Writer Madison Mooney, as well as Lowell Observatory Operations Manager Amanda Bosh, Ph.D., who manages the observatory and the staff. She and Kevin are great at making the I ❤ Pluto Festival more than just an astronomy event by incorporating the community, bringing in local officials, glass-blower George Averbeck to create ornaments for the speakers, Mother Road Brewing Company founder Michael Marquess to brew a special beer every year and a poet to perform poems about Pluto and space.

Backstage in the green room at the Orpheum Theater with David Eicher, David Levy, Adam Nimoy, Kevin Schindler (standing) and Alan Stern, Ph.D., from left. Arizona State Rep. Justin Wilmeth [District 2] is reflected in the mirror.

I'm performing at the I ❤ Pluto Festival on Feb. 18, 93 years after Pluto was discovered from Flagstaff's Lowell Observator

I'm honored that Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff has asked me to perform the poems "To the Planet Formerly Known as Pluto" and "Clyde Tombaugh" at the 2023 I ❤ Pluto Festival at the Orpheum Theater on Feb. 18.

I'll be sharing the stage with Lowell Observatory Historian Kevin Schindler, who will relive Clyde Tombaugh’s day of discovering Pluto, 93 years ago.

The keynote is Astronaut Nicole Stott, who flew with the space shuttle Discovery on missions STS-128 and STS-133, space shuttle Atlantis on STS-129 and twice to the Internation Space Station on Expedition 20 and Expedition 21. Stott will talk about her career and wrote a book "Back to Earth: What Life in Space Taught Me About Our Home Planet – And Our Mission to Protect It."

She creatively combines the awe and wonder of her spaceflight experience with her artwork to inspire everyone’s appreciation of our role as crewmates here on Spaceship Earth.

She is a veteran NASA Astronaut with two spaceflights and 104 days as a crewmember on both the International Space Station (ISS) and the Space Shuttle. Personal highlights of her time in space include performing a spacewalk (10th woman to do so), flying the robotic arm to capture the first free-flying HTV, painting a watercolor (now on display at the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum), working with her international crew on science that is all about improving life on Earth, and of course the life changing view of our home planet. She is also a NASA Aquanaut. In preparation for spaceflight she was a crew member on an 18-day saturation dive mission at the Aquarius undersea laboratory.

Nicole believes that the international model of peaceful and successful cooperation we have experienced in the extreme environments of space and sea holds the key to the same kind of peaceful and successful cooperation for all of humanity here on Earth.

On her post-NASA mission, Nicole is a co-founder of the Space for Art Foundation — uniting a planetary community of children through the awe and wonder of space exploration and the healing power of art.

"Dear Pluto"

By Christopher Fox Graham

April 20, 2012

To the planet formerly known as Pluto,

Though we will never meet

I think I know you

I am a speck of organic matter

standing on the surface of your sister

my people and I

are converted from ice and dust

electrified into existence

by the mere circumstances

of your sister Earth and nephew Moon

dancing with tide pools

when they were still in their infancy

mere molecules slammed together

and held onto each other in strings

which took billions of years

to mistake themselves in their reproduction

to form this all-too-young boy

sending you this letter

forgive my impetuousness, dear Pluto

but compared to you,

I only have a second

before this organic matter caves in on itself

becomes dust and water to form something new

all I have is my voice

and I beg you to listen

because although we will never meet

I think I know you

I’m not sure if you will receive this letter

In the time it takes to reach you,

I could bounce between here and the sun 16 times

measured on your timescale

my country is not even a year old yet

You’re farther away from the sun

than any of your siblings

and while the rest of those planets circulate in lockstep

in the same elliptical orbit

yours is full of highs and lows

as you rise above the plane

and drop beneath it

because you’re either bipolar

of just refuse to conform

be glad you’ve been able to do it so long

here, those who are different

either by choice or accident

wind up getting bullied, brutalized or crucified

and while I could explain what those words mean

let’s hope that by the time one of us stands on your surface

we’ve forgotten what they mean, too

At Lowell Observatory in the hills overlooking Flagstaff

astronomer Clyde Tombaugh picked you out from the black

he watched you wander at the edge of the solar system

and noted how you keep your distance

from everyone else like you

I know what it feels like to be alone, too

there are times when people here

believe the sun is so far away they don’t feel warm anymore

and they stare out into the black

and wonder what’s like to just let go

I’m glad you’ve stayed with us, dear Pluto

you show us that even when the universe is terrifying cold

there’s some light to hold on to

some reason to keep moving

and even out there you and your moon Charon

prove you can find love anywhere

since we began to worship stars

we have followed your siblings

the rocky worlds, the gas giants

to us, if they were bigger than an asteroid or moon

and weren’t furnaces like the sun,

they were a planet

deserving the name of a god

an astrological house

and a certain amount of inexplicable reverence

you were nine children of a yellow sun

on the rural edge of the galaxy

but now because your size doesn’t fit new rules

the International Astronomical Union on my world

has decided you are no longer a planet

you don’t meet the qualifications anymore

you no longer govern an astrological house

they took you away from you were to us

because some ink on paper said you didn’t matter anymore

they put you a box labeled “dwarf planets” or “Plutoids”

only to be ostracized from your brothers and sisters

by faceless strangers at the stroke of pen

here, we label people too,

segregate them into boxes

based on the color of their skins

or which one of those gods they called out to while dying

or whether they love someone with the same or different parts

or in what way they their throats make noises to communicate

or even by where they were born

as if point of origin means anything

on a planet spinning 1,600 kilometers per second,

where specks like me have wandered to every part of it

tell me, dear Pluto

can you see the borders of our nations from out there?

it seems that’s all we can see down here sometimes

can you tell us apart?

if we one day reach you

dig our fingers into your dirt

would you care about what language we used

to tell each other 

how beautiful the moment was?

Dear Pluto,

I know what it feels like to be small

I’m still a little boy, too

playing grown-up games

wondering what happens

when there’s nothing left to orbit anymore

Though we will never meet

you don’t have to answer this letter if it ever reaches you

but I think you know me,

I am a tiny voice on your sister Earth

and you are Pluto, the ninth planet of the sun

"Clyde Tombaugh"

A companion poem to "Dear Pluto"

January 27, 2016

The Kansas boy stares into the sky

counting stars with his fingers

pretending he can touch each one

playing piano keys with constellations

the spheres make music most us will never hear

but he orchestrates symphonies

oboes in Orion

clarinets in Cancer

violins in Virgo

percussion rumbling off supernova timpanies

snare drums on the skin of black holes

while spinning quasars keep perfect rhythm

the boy, now a teen measures stars with his telescopes

built from leftover parts

shaping steel and mirrors

to bend the light down into his hands

he wants to hold the weight of stardust 

in his palm

the boy, now a man,

works on Mars Hill

the evening shift at Lowell Observatory

scouring the images for differences

one single speck out of place

but these were skies he could paint from memory

on a night like tonight

a cold February

the man became a boy again

when he found a spot 

hide-and-seeking with him

telling him the stars and planets were looking back at us

an undiscovered instrument 

making music he was the first to hear

a ninth symphony he held for a moment

heard alone, echoing in solitary discovery

before he shared it with the world

76 years later,

nine years after his death

mankind's ship in a bottle

broke the bonds of earth to reach out

and find New Horizons

in the cold dark of space

in a case no bigger than heart of a boy

now 2.97 billion miles from Kansas

from Mars Hill

from our entire history

are the ashes of the man who first heard the music

after six years alone in the dark

he traveled farther than anyone in history

to visit a world unseen by human eyes

and last July, the man became a boy again

matching his imagination to the globe in front of him

visiting an undiscovered country held for a moment

a solitary discovery

before he shared it with the world

at that distance, signals and light take 4 and half hours to reach home

in those hours, 

Clyde Tombaugh,

you had a world captivated in the silence

waiting 4 billion years

for someone to visit

what did you talk about?

did she ask 

what the sun feels like 

when so much closer?

how it warms your skin in summer?

did she tell you her story?

what it’s like to be so far away, alone in night?

how her years pass in centuries?

did you tell her about us?

about Kansas

about Mars Hill

about what it feels like to hold stardust in your palm?

did you tell her there were 7 billion boys and girls back home

waiting to see her for the first time?

was she eager to meet you since she first saw you

playing hide and seek with your telescopes

or counting stars with your fingers

or did she just sing a song?

one half of an unfinished duet

a harmony you already knew

something slow and beautiful

a secret 

only two lovers 

can understand

Astronaut Nicole Stott, from right; Alden Tombaugh, son of Pluto discoverer Clyde Tombaugh; Alden's wife Cherylee Tombaugh; poet Christopher Fox Graham; Athena Zelda Nebula Skye Sylvia Diana Fox Graham; and Kevin Schindler, historian of Lowell Observatory, who organized the Night of Discovery event at the Orpheum Theater in Flagstaff.
I was honored to perform poems about Pluto and Clyde Tombaugh. Alden was very complimentary and asked for copies (which I had pre-printed and shared with Kevin, Alden and Nicole).

Athena had a great time and ate loads of food. Lowell's senior astronomer also announced a 2,430-km diameter asteroid between Jupiter and Mars is now officially called (28724) Stott.