I like black because it is a vacant space.

Hear, O seekers of hidden meaning, the words of Lady Gaga: “I like black because it is a vacant space.” At first, these words may seem as the musings of an artist speaking of color. Yet they conceal a deeper reflection, an ancient truth cloaked in modern form. For black is not merely the absence of light, but the fertile void from which creation itself is born. It is the canvas of the cosmos, the silent backdrop against which the stars ignite and the soul dares to imagine.

The meaning of Gaga’s words lies in this recognition: that black is a vacant space, but vacancy is not emptiness. It is potential. In the silence of blackness, one may dream, one may shape, one may become. Where others see nothingness, the wise see a sanctuary—a place unburdened by noise or distraction, waiting to be filled with purpose. Thus, Gaga’s affection for black reveals a soul attuned to the power of the void, seeing not despair in darkness, but possibility.

The origin of this symbolism stretches back to the dawn of cultures. In Egypt, the color black was sacred, the hue of the Nile’s fertile soil, promising renewal and life. In Japan, the ink-black brushstroke of calligraphy was revered, for within its simplicity dwelt infinite expression. And in the vastness of space, black is the eternal stage where galaxies spin and new suns are born. Everywhere, the void is not an end, but a beginning. Lady Gaga, as artist and provocateur, channels this timeless truth into her craft: that creation often begins in the dark.

History, too, gives witness. Consider the poet Rainer Maria Rilke, who spoke of dwelling in darkness, embracing solitude as the womb of inspiration. Or think of Vincent van Gogh, who in the blackness of night painted starry skies that glimmer with eternal light. For both, darkness was not annihilation, but the vacant space where vision and beauty emerged. Gaga’s words echo this lineage, transforming what others fear into a source of strength.

But there is also a heroic defiance in her declaration. To embrace black is to reject the shallow insistence on constant brightness, constant cheer, constant clarity. It is to say: I will not fear silence, I will not fear the void. The vacant space is not my enemy, but my companion. In it, I may grow, I may grieve, I may create. It is a stance of courage, to claim the darkness as a place of freedom rather than oppression.

The lesson for us, O listener, is to learn to cherish the vacant spaces in our own lives. Do not flee from silence with endless distraction, nor from solitude with restless noise. See the moments of stillness, the seasons of emptiness, as sacred soil where seeds are planted. In blackness, reflect, dream, and gather strength for what is to come. For the one who fears the void is enslaved by it, but the one who embraces it becomes its master.

Therefore, in practice, seek your own black—your own vacant space. Turn off the ceaseless noise of the world, sit with your thoughts, and allow the silence to shape you. Use the empty canvas of time not as a curse, but as a gift, filling it with intention rather than fear. For as Lady Gaga teaches, black is not death, but the mystery of beginnings; not despair, but the possibility of creation. In its depths, you may find not nothingness, but the power to bring forth everything.