“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?”

–Lewis Carroll

If I had a world of my own

In the clas­si­fied sec­tion of a daily news­pa­per an advert­ise­ment reads: “Old prob­lem look­ing for a way out”.

If I find a solu­tion to that old prob­lem, do I become part of the “cre­at­ive” group of humans? If I spend time and energy, elab­or­at­ing this new solu­tion and then stop, will I have reached my goal?

I would think not. The answer I have worked so hard to elab­or­ate needs also to be eleg­ant, uncom­mon, unique and should enjoy sim­ple qual­it­ies to con­vert and be adop­ted.

I could have also come across a bril­liant idea acci­dent­ally and the eureka moment will then be at hand.

When we look back on our child­hood, we relive moments of joy and peace we sel­dom exper­i­ence when we grow up. Our life was easy then and great things were dis­covered by our explor­ing minds, things we looked upon as small mir­acles. Our par­ents were gods who could chase out demons from under the bed, wipe a tear from our eyes and bring back a smile to our lips, just by read­ing a bed­time story. Life was idyll­ic and the cre­ativ­ity of a mother or father was the res­ol­u­tion to our fears.

Is this seem­ingly straight­for­ward solu­tion applic­able in our world? Can we find today an answer to the prob­lems of pover­ty, water, wars, injustice, envir­on­ment­al prob­lems and oth­er appar­ently unsolv­able tra­gedies?

Can we recall the cre­ativ­ity of the archi­tect who added the gar­goyles to the spires of the cathed­rals, and then added a net­work of pipes to col­lect clean water, from their splash­ing mouths, for the thirsty? Or ima­gine the bent backs of build­ers attempt­ing to stop a wall from fall­ing and design­ing the fly­ing but­tresses that made these majestic build­ings so eleg­ant and last­ing? Can we wait for hun­dreds of years to redis­cov­er the magic of cement, lost in the middle ages, to give life to the beau­ty of Le Corbusier designs?

We are today, more than any oth­er time, await­ing the return of Marco Polo to Venice. We look for­ward to the “The paper, gun­powder and com­pass to reshape the world”, to para­phrase Francis Bacon.

The blank sheet of paper and the magic fin­gers of an ori­gami mas­ter turns into a bird, a plane and in the hands of an enchanted child, Superman. A 3D print­er and some dis­carded tis­sue from an old man’s scar is built into an aorta that will replace his fail­ing artery. An artist, a sci­ent­ist, a math­em­atician will retreat in their bubble, will live in another dimen­sion where everything is pos­sible. In this world, par­al­lels will join, Pythagoras will be wrong, Picasso will see Guernica, and I would write a short doc­u­ment to describe the unfathom­able. Then, things we took for gran­ted will stand down and a sim­ple sum will nev­er give the same res­ults.

By the lovely AIDA

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