AWAKENING /  創造の目覚め

18.12.2025 

There is a moment, just before something is born, when everything trembles. It is not yet form, not yet thought, not yet gesture. It is a mute vibration, a shiver moving through matter like a whisper beneath the skin. It is the exact point at which the world holds its breath: a thin crevice between what is asleep and what is about to awaken. There, in the half-light of the origin, everything is possible, and it is precisely there that the spark hides. Awakening is not a gentle act. It is a rupture, a tear in the quiet, an impulse rising from the depths and pushing toward the surface. It is the primordial instinct of life forcing its way through, like a root breaking the dark earth, like a light cracking open a shadow that has lasted too long. No birth is silent: it is a roar you cannot hear but feel deep in the bones, a call coming from a place without a name. To awaken is to let go of everything that was static, everything that was still, everything that had grown numb. And within us, awakening unfolds in the very same way. It does not arrive on a specific day, nor does it obey hours or seasons. Yet when it manifests, it invades everything. It is an impulse that shakes what we believed unmovable: a desire resurfacing, an intuition burning, a gesture pressing to exist. Sometimes it is a soft voice; sometimes it is a brutal jolt. It can be born from loss, from a wound, from an exhaustion that can no longer be ignored. Other times it blossoms without reason, like a sudden flash in the mind. But every awakening carries one undeniable truth: nothing will ever be the same again.

Creation, at its core, is an act of awakening. It does not arise from control, but from surrender. From the courage to let ourselves be crossed by what emerges without asking whether we are ready, without asking for permission. The artist knows this threshold well: that subtle fever rising before an image takes form; that tremor of chaos preceding every revelation; that fertile darkness where everything is still possible, where the raw matter of the inner world begins to move, to pulse, to demand to be heard. It is a moment of expansion, almost physical: the inside stretches, the skin vibrates, something knocks from the other side like an animal aching to be born. Creation begins there, at the instant the self cracks and vision seeps through the fissure. Raw, untamed, imperfect. But alive. Terrifyingly alive. To awaken is to look with new eyes at what we believed extinguished. It is to realize that even in the densest night, a vibration has never stopped breathing. It is to recognize that every ending, no matter how absolute, always leaves behind an ember, a stubborn spark, a slit through which new light can enter. Dawn does not happen only in the sky; it happens in the gestures that return, in the words finally released, in the images that surface after months of silence. Awakening is fragile, yes, sometimes timid. But it is also a primordial force, a brutal one, capable of splitting the night in two. It is pure power moving through us and reshaping us.

And then comes that unexpected, precise, irrevocable moment when we understand that creation is not something we do. It is something that moves through us. Something that stirs us. Something that hollows us out. It is our most intimate nature, our oldest impulse, a primordial tremor born in the deepest zones of us, where even words cannot reach. It does not require spectacle or revelation: just a tremor, a flash, an abrupt pulse cracking the surface of the everyday. A thin fissure from which a new heat erupts, almost feverish, pushing, calling, demanding to be heard. And it is through that crack that the world begins again. There, in that fragile and overwhelming opening, awakening occurs.

With “AWAKENING: 創造の目覚め”, M.A.D.S. Art Gallery invites every artist to step into this living instant, to linger in the moment when consciousness ignites and something begins to beat before it even has a form. To explore what rises from silence; what emerges from the dark like a breath held for too long; what, in awakening, forever transforms whoever welcomes it. To depict not only the light that is born, but also the shadow that generated it, the depth from which it rises, the incandescent matter of its very first pulse.

Because within every act of creation there is a rising.

Within every awakening, an echo of life.

And in the spark that breaks the night, the self finds its brightest truth:

we are meant to be reborn. Again and again.

Concept by Lisa Galletti Senior Art Curator