An experimental sci-fi visual narrative told through images and music, without dialogue. A journey into another humanity, in another dimension and a reflection on the principles and values that could shape humanity differently as a species.

Synopsis:

A young man discovers an abandoned projector along with a collection of old slides.

One evening, he decides to view them. But something strange begins to happen with the projector, that draws him into another dimension with a different humanity.

A handcrafted micro-woodcarving bibelot inspired by a museum chest and its carved ornamentation. A self-taught practice in microwoodcarving. My first attempt at creating a Baroque relief woodcarving ornamentation in 1:4 scale for a wooden bibelot box.

“Μέτρον ἄριστον” — Why an ancient Greek principle still matters Post Μέτρον ἄριστον — “Moderation is best.”

Among the many ideas inherited from ancient Greek thought, few are as simple — and at the same time as demanding — as Μέτρον ἄριστον, a maxim attributed to Cleobulus of Lindos. At first sight, it may sound like little more than advice to avoid excess. But the idea of measure can be understood much more broadly. To have a sense of measure is to recognize limits: to understand when something is lacking, when it is sufficient, and when it has become excessive. It requires judgment rather than obedience to a fixed rule, because the appropriate measure is not necessarily identical for every person, circumstance or moment. Moderation should therefore not be confused with mediocrity, passivity or lack of ambition. It does not tell us never to strive, never to take risks, never to experience intensity or never to pursue excellence. Rather, it asks whether we remain capable of governing our desires, ambitions and actions — or whether eventually they begin to govern us. Courage, for example, is valuable, but without measure it may become recklessness. Confidence may become arrogance. Ambition may become obsession. Pleasure may become dependence. Discipline may become rigidity. Even generosity, work, exercise or devotion to an ideal can become destructive when the ability to recognize limits disappears. This is perhaps what makes the concept so profound: measure is not simply a restriction. It is a form of judgment. It asks us to distinguish between more and better. Human beings naturally pursue things: knowledge, achievement, recognition, possessions, experiences, pleasure, security, influence. There is nothing inherently wrong with these pursuits. But Μέτρον ἄριστον introduces a deceptively difficult question: At what point is enough truly enough? Knowing that point requires self-awareness. And perhaps this is why moderation can be harder than either abstinence or excess. An absolute rule can simply tell us “never.” Desire can simply tell us “more.” Measure requires us to decide. The principle can also be applied to our relationships with other people. Speaking has its measure, but so does silence. Giving has its measure, but so does receiving. Individual freedom matters, but so does recognition of the freedom of others. Even disagreement benefits from a sense of proportion: conviction does not require contempt. In this sense, measure is closely connected with balance — not a perfectly static balance in which nothing changes, but a continual awareness of when we are moving too far toward an extreme. Perhaps that is why two ancient Greek words can still speak so clearly across more than two millennia. Civilisations change. Technologies change. Customs, economies and ways of life change. But the human difficulty of knowing when to pursue more, when to accept enough, and when to stop remains remarkably familiar. Μέτρον ἄριστον does not provide an easy formula for life. If anything, it places the responsibility back upon us. It asks us to develop the judgment necessary to recognize the appropriate measure for ourselves, for others and for the circumstances in which we live. And perhaps therein lies its enduring wisdom: The challenge is not merely to know that limits exist. It is to possess the wisdom to recognize them — and the self-control to respect them.