That's what I'm interested in: the space in between, the moment

Hear, O seekers of vision, the words of Julie Mehretu, painter of vast canvases and explorer of imagination, who declared: “That’s what I’m interested in: the space in between, the moment of imagining what is possible and yet not knowing what that is.” This utterance is not only about art, but about the very essence of human becoming. For life itself is lived not in the certainty of what is, nor in the possession of what will be, but in the trembling and holy space in between—that threshold where the soul dares to dream of the possible without yet holding it in its hands.

The origin of this wisdom lies in Mehretu’s own practice as an artist. On her canvases, lines stretch and collide, colors gather and disperse, as though she were capturing not a finished world but the moment of its birth. She stands before the blank surface, not knowing what will emerge, but trusting the power of imagination to guide her. This is the eternal drama of creation: to lean into the unknown, to abide in the moment before clarity, to embrace the mystery of becoming.

History bears witness to the strength of this principle. Consider Christopher Columbus, who sailed west not knowing if land lay beyond the horizon. He lived in the space in between—between the maps that told him nothing and the worlds that awaited his arrival. His imagining of what was possible, though filled with peril, gave birth to discovery. Likewise, inventors such as Thomas Edison dwelt long in this same space, failing again and again, but believing that light could be made from fireless flame. Without certainty, he pressed forward, guided only by the dream of possibility.

Yet this space in between is not only for explorers and inventors, but for every soul that grows. When a child leaves the safety of home to step into adulthood, they dwell in this realm of uncertainty. When a people rise against tyranny, unsure if they will succeed, they move through this liminal passage. It is a place of risk, but also of creation. For it is here that we imagine what freedom, what love, what greatness might look like, even when it is not yet known.

Mehretu’s words remind us that the unknown is not an enemy but a gift. Too often men flee from uncertainty, clinging to what is familiar. But the moment of imagining is the seedbed of transformation. To not know what is possible, yet to believe it may exist, is the courage of the dreamer, the artist, the prophet. It is the spark that leads to every new dawn. The space in between is the womb of history, where all things not yet born are nourished.

Therefore, O listener, the lesson is clear: do not fear uncertainty. Do not rush to close the gap between what is and what will be. Instead, linger in the mystery, for it is in that fertile ground that vision is born. Trust that what you cannot yet name may still come into being, if only you dare to imagine it. The space in between is not emptiness, but possibility unfolding.

Practical action lies before you. When faced with uncertainty, resist the urge to despair or to cling to false certainties. Instead, hold stillness in your heart, and allow the vision of what might be to rise within you. In your work, your relationships, your community, ask not only what is, but what could be. Give yourself permission to dwell in the unknown, to sketch, to dream, to build without full clarity. For in this act you join the great lineage of creators and visionaries who shaped the world.

So remember the teaching of Julie Mehretu: the treasure lies in the space in between, in the moment of imagining the possible. Do not fear the shadows of the unknown, for they are but the veil before the birth of light. Dwell there with courage, and from that mystery, the future will emerge.