We've always loved going to the movies. Our mom and dad are big

Hear, O lovers of art and imagination, the words of Lilly Wachowski, who speaks not merely of pastime but of passion handed down through generations: “We’ve always loved going to the movies. Our mom and dad are big movie fans. They’d take us on these movie orgys where we’d see sometimes three movies in a day.” In this recollection is contained the sacred origin of creativity—the shaping of vision through wonder, the awakening of imagination through shared experience. The cinema, to the Wachowskis, was not escape, but communion—a temple where stories illuminated truth, and light upon a screen became the mirror of the human soul.

From this love was born the artistry that would later give us The Matrix, a myth of modern times, in which philosophy and technology dance as one. Yet the roots of such grand imagination lie not in wealth or privilege, but in the humble ritual of a family sitting together in the dark, their hearts open, their minds ignited. What Lilly recalls is more than nostalgia; it is a testimony to how the seeds of creativity are sown early, watered by love and exposure to beauty. The family that watches stories together learns to see the world as story—to perceive its depth, its mystery, its moral complexity.

This devotion to cinema echoes the ancient tradition of oral storytelling around the fire, where elders passed wisdom to the young. Just as Homeric bards recited the Odyssey to awaken courage and compassion in listeners, so too did the Wachowski family attend the cinema to engage with the myths of their age. The glowing screen became the modern hearth, and the heroes who leapt across it—cowboys, rebels, dreamers, and lovers—became the guides of their creative spirit. Movies were not mere entertainment; they were moral and emotional education.

Consider the story of Walt Disney, who as a boy would watch vaudeville shows and silent films with his family in small-town Missouri. Those early spectacles imprinted upon him a lifelong love for storytelling through movement, music, and wonder. From the modest theater of his childhood emerged a vision that reshaped global imagination. So too did the Wachowskis’ film marathons, those “movie orgys,” give rise to a new mythology of technology and transcendence. Each great creator is, at heart, a child who once sat in awe before someone else’s creation.

In Lilly’s words there is also a tender recognition of family influence—the way love, shared curiosity, and cultural passion weave together to shape identity. The parents’ devotion to film was not merely indulgence, but inheritance. By introducing their children to the beauty of cinema, they bestowed upon them not fame, but the courage to dream. This is how culture perpetuates itself: through families that cherish art, through hearts that dare to see more than the surface of the world.

Yet her reflection also holds a quiet melancholy, a yearning for a time when art was shared communally, not consumed in isolation. The family’s cinematic pilgrimages contrast the modern era, in which screens are solitary and attention fragmented. In remembering those “three movies in a day,” Lilly honors the sacred act of surrendering together to wonder, of giving time and attention wholly to the art before you. She reminds us that to love deeply—whether a film, a story, or a craft—requires immersion, patience, and togetherness.

From her words we draw this timeless lesson: feed the imagination, and it will feed your soul. Seek out art not as distraction, but as awakening. Go to the theater, read the novel, listen to the song—and bring others with you. For creativity, like love, is multiplied when shared. And remember the wisdom of Lilly Wachowski: greatness does not begin in mastery, but in passionate curiosity, in those moments when the heart opens to the magic of creation, and a child sitting in the dark discovers the infinite power of story.

Thus, let her words echo through generations: that art is born of memory, that imagination is inherited through love, and that every great creator was once a child watching light flicker upon a screen, dreaming of worlds yet to come.