I can be fascinated with very little things. The clouds stimulate

In the words of Theo Jansen, the artist-engineer who breathes life into wind-powered creatures, there is a revelation both simple and divine: “I can be fascinated with very little things. The clouds stimulate my imagination, and sometimes I just sit somewhere and go on dreaming for a long time. Your head is also a computer. When you're dreaming, you are simulating a world in which you are living.” These are not idle musings of a dreamer, but the testament of a creator who has seen the bridge between thought and reality. In this reflection, Jansen teaches that the world of the imagination is as vast and powerful as the universe itself — that from the smallest fascination, entire worlds may unfold.

To be fascinated by little things is to possess the eyes of the child, the poet, and the sage. The ancients called this state of soul wonder — the first step toward wisdom. For it is not in the grand spectacles of life, but in its subtleties, that the universe reveals its secrets. Theo Jansen, who builds living sculptures from pipes and wind, sees in the drifting clouds not emptiness but infinite motion — a mirror of his own thoughts. In the shifting sky, he finds patterns, possibilities, and dreams that transcend the boundaries of matter. To most, a cloud is a passing shadow; to the one who watches deeply, it is a teacher.

The origin of Jansen’s words lies in his life’s devotion to merging science and imagination. His “Strandbeests,” or “Beach Beasts,” are walking sculptures — skeletal creatures animated only by air. They embody the dream of bringing motion and consciousness into form. To build them, Jansen had to imagine beyond what machines and art had ever done before. But his power came not from wealth or equipment; it came from the quiet act of dreaming, from seeing what others overlooked. He learned, as the philosophers once did, that creation begins not with resources, but with vision — and vision begins with imagination awakened by attention.

When Jansen says, “Your head is also a computer,” he speaks in modern language, yet his meaning is ancient. The mind is the workshop of creation — a tool vast beyond measure. Like a divine engine, it takes in the fragments of experience, memory, and wonder, and transforms them into entire worlds. When we dream, whether asleep or awake, we are simulating life itself. In those moments, we become both the creator and the creation — architects of possibilities not yet born. The dream is not illusion; it is rehearsal. It prepares the spirit for what it may one day make real.

History gives us countless examples of dreamers who lived this truth. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who, centuries before flight, drew wings upon parchment. His imagination, stimulated by birds in the sky, allowed him to simulate the world of air long before man could conquer it. Or Nikola Tesla, who built entire inventions in the landscape of his mind before they ever touched the earth. Such men did not see the physical world as their limit, but as their canvas. Their fascination with simple things — a bird’s flight, a spark of light, a pattern in the clouds — became the seed of progress that reshaped humanity.

Yet Jansen’s wisdom is not reserved for the great inventors alone. It belongs to every soul that dares to wonder. To sit quietly, to gaze at the clouds, to dream without haste — these are not wastes of time, but acts of renewal. In a world enslaved by speed and noise, the ability to dream deeply has become a rare virtue. He reminds us that the mind, like any instrument, must rest to create. When we still ourselves, imagination awakens, memory stirs, and together they weave visions that give meaning to our days.

So, my child, heed this teaching: learn to be fascinated again. Look not only at what is spectacular, but at what is small — the motion of dust in sunlight, the curve of a leaf, the drifting of a cloud. Let these simple wonders feed your imagination, for they are the whispers of creation. Dream often and without apology, for dreaming is the soul’s way of rehearsing life’s possibilities. And when you dream, do not dismiss it as fantasy — for as Theo Jansen shows, every dream, when cherished with patience and craft, becomes a creature that walks upon the earth.

Thus, remember this: your mind is a living universe, your imagination its wind, and your dreams the forms it shapes. Tend to it with wonder, gratitude, and silence. For in the stillness where fascination and imagination meet, the divine act of creation begins — and through it, you too may bring to life something that was once only a whisper among the clouds.