Analogies of wonder
(in progress)
There are very short periods, just minutes, when I'm not doing anything and I’m not lost in my thoughts either—just fully present, still, with all my senses. Most of the time, my eyes are closed, yet I feel an overwhelming urge to open them. I’m focused entirely on sounds and light. Still no thoughts emerge, only the steady scan of sensory impressions: every sound, light effect, and physical sensation takes center stage in my awareness. After some time of preparing, infinitely slowly, almost step-by-step, I start to open my eyelids. At first, it’s just light that appears, almost pouring into my consciousness, without forming anything from the outside
world. Then, as my eyes open wider, something takes shape. And this is the essence: it doesn’t matter what appears in my field of vision—whatever it is, it brings the excitement of discovery and the peak of newness. Anything I see in this state seems like an unbelievably exciting phenomenon; only the joy of surprise exists. In that moment, anything becomes a wonder. I’ve noticed that if I fully open my eyes, the magic disappears, replaced by the familiarity of “I’ve seen this a thousand times before.” In the series Analogies of wonder, I attempt to capture this phenomenon, working with the intuitive dynamic of search and discovery in my creative process.