I never planned to create a movement. Really.
GlassStories began with a much simpler wish: to make one beautiful story, written on glass. I saw a pane held against a window, so that the light had to pass through the words before it reached the room. Then the outlines of other stories appeared, and then more.
Only after some time did I notice that I had stopped writing single stories and was building worlds, some of them loosely connected, some woven tight.
They are worlds in which science and art share a table. Imagination counts there as a tool of knowledge, and technology is one more language in which a story can be told. I have come to distrust the word “versus” in this territory. Science and art, imagination and knowledge: the conjunction carries the whole meaning. A tree needs roots in the dark and leaves in the light, and nobody calls that a contradiction.
GlassStories.art is an attempt to return to an older role of art, to a time when artists, philosophers and scientists took part in one conversation about reality. That is why the heroes of these stories so often stand at the edge of knowledge: rebels, scientific heretics, explorers of things that perhaps should not yet be discovered. Every era needs such people, and every era needs stories about them.
If GlassStories.art ever becomes more than a project, if it grows into a movement, it will be because there are still people who believe that literature and art can change the way we look at the future.
The future begins with imagination.