Growing up felt simpler. There was time to wander, to get lost in the woods, to stare at the sky without distraction. Our identities weren’t shaped by likes, comments, or endless scrolling. We existed in the present, free from the need to curate ourselves. Today, the world moves faster, and for the younger generation, reality is a constant flood of data, images, and expectations.
Technology has reshaped childhood. Screens dominate attention, and social interactions happen in digital spaces. There’s no escape from comparison, no break from the noise. How does this affect those growing up in it? Are they adapting, or are they overwhelmed? The speed of change makes it impossible to pause. Every new advancement demands instant adjustment, but what does that leave behind?
I once saw a film called Until the End of the World. It imagined a future where people recorded their dreams and watched themselves obsessively. At the time, it felt surreal, a strange vision of what could be. Now, over 33 years later, it looks like a warning we ignored. We document everything, live through screens, and sometimes forget to be present in the real world.
What happens when reflection is replaced by constant stimulation? Can we still find moments of stillness, or is that a relic of another time? As the world accelerates, it’s worth asking if we’re moving forward—or just running in circles, trapped in the wires we created.
The photograph I took in Museum Voorlinden in the Netherlands.