Michael Woronko

We know that that much of life is what we make of it. And as we move through the tides of existence, it’s not long before we also know to assert ourselves as the protagonists in a greater story being written, chapter by chapter, via our movements through space and time. Throughout this navigation, we chase meaning like we chase fulfilment because we’ve deduced (or maybe because we’ve always inherently known) that they’re one and the same.

We’re a sentient organism caught in a ripple of cosmic chaos, riding atop a cacophonic expulsion of particles that afford us, for some semi-inexplicable rhyme or reason, the ability to somehow sense and experience a subjective journey through an unknowable reality. The fact that we can perceive our way through the universe around us — make and test postulations, taste and feel the world, sense opportunity and create meaning — this all means a whole lot more than we can often appreciate.

When we look at the clouds, most of us tend to see them moving in a singular direction. Our perceptual perspective doesn’t really make it obvious that the masses of vapour are moving much more dynamically than they seem — swirling and coalescing, shifting and dispersing.