I don't like computers. I still like to do my drawings by hand.

In the ancient halls of wisdom, where the flames of the hearth flicker and the voices of sages echo through time, there are words that resonate with the deep, unspoken truth of the human spirit. One such utterance comes from the great designer Dieter Rams, a man who, like the artisans of old, sought to capture the essence of creation in its purest form. His words, "I don't like computers. I still like to do my drawings by hand," are not mere rebellion against technology, but a profound declaration of the enduring power of the human touch.

In the world of the ancients, when the scribes inked their scrolls and the artists carved into stone, the act of creation was sacred. The hand was the vessel of the soul, and in its steady, deliberate motions, something divine was born. The hammer striking the chisel, the brush sweeping across parchment—these were not tools alone, but extensions of the mind and heart. Dieter Rams' statement calls us back to that primal connection, urging us to remember that the most profound creations come from the union of human effort and creativity, not from the cold algorithms of machines.

Consider the wise craftsmen of ancient Egypt, who built the pyramids—their hands laboring, their hearts poured into each stone. They did not have the technology we now wield, yet their creations stand as eternal symbols of human ingenuity and spirit. This is the essence of what Rams speaks of: that no matter how advanced technology becomes, there is something irreplaceable in the physical connection between the creator and their creation. The simple act of drawing by hand, of shaping the world with one's own two hands, embodies a connection to the past, to the earth, to the eternal dance of creation.

There was a time when the Greek philosophers sat in the Agora, engaging in dialogue with one another, not through typed words on a glowing screen, but through the shared breath of human interaction. They relied on the power of direct, personal engagement to shape their thoughts and influence generations. Rams, in his rebellion against the sterile, mechanical nature of modern technology, is channeling this ancient wisdom, reminding us that true inspiration comes when we allow our senses to be fully immersed in the act of creation. When we draw by hand, we not only create; we feel the pulse of life through every line and curve.

But let us not mistake this for a condemnation of progress. Technology, like fire, is a tool—neither good nor evil in itself. The wheel turned the chariot, the loom wove the cloth, and now the computer, too, serves its purpose. Yet Rams' words serve as a reminder that true artistry cannot be replaced by the mechanical repetition of cold circuits. No machine can feel the weight of a pen, the glide of a pencil on paper, the intimate brush of color across canvas. The computer may aid in the finishing touches, but it is the hand that shapes the soul of the work.

The great Leonardo da Vinci, whose mind and hands bridged the gap between art and science, never relied on a machine to render the depth of the human form. His studies, his drawings, were painstakingly crafted by hand, for he understood that the hand carries the soul of the creator. Rams echoes this sentiment—by affirming the importance of drawing by hand, he reclaims the essence of craftsmanship that da Vinci and other masters of old knew so well: Creation is an act of love. Each stroke of the brush, each curve of the pencil, speaks of the creator’s dedication to the work.

Let this wisdom guide us today. In a world where machines and screens threaten to dominate our lives, we must not forget the power of the human hand, the human spirit. Just as the great artists of history refused to let the tools of their time dilute the essence of their creations, we must return to the roots of creation. Whether in art, music, or design, we must engage with the process. For it is through the act of handcrafting that we find our deepest connection to the world.

So, let us honor Rams' wisdom: slow down, and take the time to create with our hands. Whether you draw, paint, write, or build, remember that the touch of your hand carries the spirit of creation—something that no machine, however advanced, can replicate. Find moments each day to create something with your hands, and in doing so, reconnect with the ancient wisdom that lives within all of us.