Within the realm of living, all things point to meaning. The words we speak, the deeds we do and the spaces we dwell within all encompass to some degree, a layer through which meaning can be attained. This is both residue and meat, mirror and window. How life builds the future.
The things we choose to collect speak volumes to our aspirations, deep desires and histories. They are our voices when not present and affirmations when close at hand.
Within the minimal, meaning has a clearer voice, an opportunity to sing its soulful song. Melody of intent, sonnet of purpose.
This is where the hand created is celebrated and the memento is savored. Where life and object resonate, reflecting history and the passing of time.
It is within the realm of the meaningful minimal where life sits under the light of clarity, basking in inspiration. Here is where the dialogue of the possible begins, where history influences future and doubt gives way to certainty. This is hope’s fertile soil. Eventually. Maybe. There is no magic bullet here, only peaceful intention. Where the eye rests, the inner voice recedes and the vision of life better rendered.
Here the passing of time moves through the bells and whistles of fad, tethering itself to the stories of objects and resting in the shadows of the spaces in between.
While this may not be the end all be all, it is the simplest path to the calming of the contemporary mind. The sifting down to the matter of meaning, the writing of stories and the clarity of purpose