When I was a kid, I never really had to think about life as something that expires at some point. The only time is now, and all the now’s must be used exploring my own little world, pretending to cook leaves plucked from plants in my grandmother’s garden, climbing the house walls up to the roof, and fixing traps for bad guys. I had a basic Lego set with which I designed homes, waged wars, and manufactured robots. We didn’t have a computer, so I made one out of scratch paper, creating the whole experience in such a way that the paper interface will change every time you ‘press’ a button.
As I grew older, I have continued this exploration, this time on a slightly grander scale (i.e. it now goes beyond my house). Always curious, oftentimes loud, and unafraid of looking stupid, I wandered across new places, and new spaces within my own mind, body and life that I had not imagined reaching before. Through travel, books, music, and movement, I discovered the wondrous feeling of surprising myself.
The world – or must I be bold and say the universe – has an abundance of things to explore, it is almost limitless. Our time here, however, is not. And so as I step onto another decade of my life, I promise to live with the same sense of wonder, albeit with an increased consciousness of the boundaries of time.
This space is my avenue for self-discovery, life experiments, good madness, and an acknowledgment that the more I know, the more I don’t know. It is the space for me to master my favorite art by far – that of not knowing.