The Luxury of Constraint
Walking through a modern supermarket, I sometimes feel overwhelmed. The sheer Γberflussβaisles upon aisles of brightly packaged goods, flavors engineered to hook, options stretching far beyond necessity. If I were to consume it all, I would surely die. And yet, this overabundance isn't limited to food. Itβs in media, entertainment, technology. Infinite choice, infinite distraction.
But what if the real luxury is not in having everything, but in choosing less? In limiting oneself?
Evolution Happens on an Empty Stomach
Necessity sharpens creativity. Evolution itself thrives on constraintβsurvival favors those who adapt to limitations. The same holds true for art. Creativity isn't born from endless resources but from the challenge of making do. The best ideas emerge when something is missing, when one is forced to be clever, to refine, to work within boundaries.
Think of the tight color palettes of early video games, where artists squeezed magic from 16 colors. The brutal word limits of haiku, where emotion must fit into seventeen syllables. The stark discipline of black-and-white photography, stripping the world down to light and form.
Retro Superior
Thatβs why I estimate retro aesthetics so highly. Not because they are old, but because they are defined by limitation. They force focus. The pixelated graphics, the chiptune music, the stripped-down mechanicsβeach choice dictated by constraint, each constraint turned into an opportunity.
In contrast, modern tools offer boundless possibilities, but with that comes the risk of indulgence, of WillkΓΌrlichkeit, of excess without meaning.
You Can Dive Much Deeper
True depth isnβt found in having everything but in fully exploring what you have. Constraints demand ingenuity, and within that challenge lies the real luxuryβthe ability to go deeper, to refine, to create with intent.
In art, in life, in everything:
Less is not just more. Less is better.