The Butterfly Effect

In the 1960s, Edward Lorenz formally introduced the concept of “The Butterfly Effect” — an idea that had already taken shape almost a decade earlier in Ray Bradbury’s literature. A small decision, a seemingly trivial gesture, can completely change everything that follows. “Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?”

Sometimes I draw without knowing what’s next. I put a small shape on the paper — like this butterfly — and suddenly everything starts growing around it. Lines, colors, forms are born without a clear plan. The butterfly seems caught in a world of broken mirrors. It’s everywhere — fragmented, multiplied. Every corner of the page reflects another version of it. A whole world emerges from it, one that moves to a strange, unique rhythm. It has no order, but it’s alive.

To me, that’s the closest thing to the truth of art: you don’t build the world through control, but through a sincere gesture that takes on a life of its own. The effect of a single choice, a thought, a color thrown onto the paper.

Who knows what my butterfly will set in motion?