There is no question that creative intelligence comes not through

The sculptor Antony Gormley, in speaking the words, “There is no question that creative intelligence comes not through learning things you find in books or histories that have already been written, but by focusing on and giving value to experience as it happens,” reminds us of an ancient truth — that true wisdom does not live in ink, but in the pulse of life itself. The creative intelligence he speaks of is not the sterile knowledge of repetition, but the living fire that burns in the heart of those who experience the world with open eyes and unguarded souls. Books preserve what has been, but experience reveals what can be. The past teaches us, but only the present transforms us.

In the ancient academies of Greece, the philosopher Socrates walked barefoot through the streets, not with scrolls but with questions. He taught by engaging life — by listening, observing, and testing truth through the actions of men and the movement of the world. He believed that real understanding must be drawn from within, awakened by contact with the living moment. That is the essence of creative intelligence: the ability to see the invisible pattern behind the immediate, to turn an ordinary event into a revelation. Learning from experience gives birth to insight, while merely memorizing words gives birth only to imitation.

Antony Gormley, as an artist, built his work not from theory but from felt experience. His sculptures of the human form — still, silent, and yet filled with immense presence — are born from his own physical awareness of being alive in space. They are meditations made visible. He reminds us that when we give value to experience as it happens, we turn life itself into a teacher. Every sound, every touch, every silence becomes a page in a greater, unwritten book — one that only we can read, because it is our own.

Consider Leonardo da Vinci, the great example of this truth. Though he studied many things, his genius did not come from reading the works of others but from observing the world itself — the flight of birds, the flow of water, the curve of a smile. His notebooks were not filled with copied lessons, but with discoveries born of his gaze upon creation. He taught himself to think with his hands, to see with his heart. This is what Gormley calls us toward: a life where every moment is an act of learning, and every experience a spark for creation.

We live in an age overflowing with information, yet starving for understanding. People memorize facts, quote philosophers, and chase credentials, but few truly see the world that unfolds before them each day. To focus only on what others have written is to live as an echo; to focus on what life is teaching us now is to live as a creator. The intelligence that changes the world does not come from absorbing history, but from living it anew — from daring to touch, to fail, to feel, to experiment, and to let the lessons of reality shape the soul.

The lesson within this quote is profound: Do not wait for knowledge to be given — seek it through experience. Go where your senses awaken. Build with your hands. Walk where the air smells of change. Listen not just to words, but to silence. The creative mind is not a library of facts, but a forge where moments are melted down into meaning. Experience is the raw material of genius, and the one who honors it will never cease to grow.

So, my child, if you would be wise — live fully. Touch the rain. Speak to strangers. Try and fail and rise again. Let the dust of your own journey settle on your skin. For books will tell you what was, but experience will show you what is and what might yet be. And from that sacred union between awareness and action, between being and becoming, your own creative intelligence will be born — a light no one else can kindle, a wisdom no book could ever contain.