Where Did We Come From, Where Are We Going

We craned our heads upwards in awe. Before us on the wall stretched a gigantic painting twinkling with starlight and creatures, following Earth’s evolution through time from right to left. 

It bloomed from the bottom right angle, in an explosion of light and colorful concepts — “protons”, “time”, “space”, “archeozoic era”, “singular point”, “3.5 billion years ago”. Then the mural blossomed into ghostly, unidentifiable sea creatures and finally, wispy animals of our modern world. Blush-pink fish drifted beside translucent jellyfish, bodies glowing with faint, pulsing light, while gigantic herds of pale lions, giraffes, and elephants strode to their left. 

“Our world started with the Big Bang,” Tian Mang Zi, the brilliant painter of this “Origin of Life”, said, pointing to the corner of the light explosion, then traced his finger leftwards to the creatures and animals, “and worked its way through biological evolution.“

“My painting seeks to answer the three philosophical questions: where did we come from, where are we going, and what are we? ”

“These are questions we used to wonder most about when we were little kids, yet when we grow up and fall into step with society, we forget how to question, how to be curious, how to think.”

His words struck a chord, and I found myself nodding. Even as a teenager, I could feel this shift: accepted societal ways of thinking slowly dulling my raw, childlike urge to question everything.

Tian continued, “And I think to answer these questions, we must combine everything: physics, biology, religion, philosophy. . . and once I did, I realized that they and our world are seamlessly interconnected.” 

Tian's artworks

Our gaze swept across his painting. Indeed, every element bled into another: the cosmic fire of the Big Bang melted into marine life and evolving organisms, which blended into the magenta background that was the sea and the universe simultaneously. . . all were woven into the same grand scene, displaying how no single moment in time and no single step of evolution exists in isolation. 

Then, as we inched closer, we noticed the tiny human figures standing and lounging on top of the various humongous creatures, minuscule against them and the galaxy. Above them soared rockets marked with faint national flags, slicing through the cosmos. 

Acknowledging our curious looks, Tian continued, “Humans are too small, our time too brief compared to the time of the universe. These scattered human figures are hence a symbol of humanity’s insignificance against the universe’s immensity.“ 

“Earth is also just the start of humanity. I think still living on Earth after a few thousand years is unrealistic— we cannot continue here indefinitely, and we cannot continue without a definite purpose. We will need to cultivate a new land, which is why we will almost certainly turn to the universe in the future. Hence, the rockets we’ve been sending into space to navigate for us and prepare for that day.” 

We paused, absorbing his words. It was a striking and powerful thought: humanity and its technology set against the vast span of evolution and cosmic time. Tian had beautifully and idealistically captured the intriguing tension between our fragile existence and our boundless desire for exploration and expansion. And indeed, even though we are mere fleeting specks within cosmic history, our curiosity and intelligence will continue to drive humanity forward and uphold the “sense of purpose” Tian asserts humans must not lose.

“Put into perspective, it really does seem like humanity has so much potential and paths ahead of us.”

Tian smiled, eyes glimmering mysteriously. “Exactly. There is so much out there we haven’t yet excavated. As the Big Bang happened in a few seconds, I believe our development will be similarly rapid.”

We pivoted back to the painting. It was a world of tender yet completely wild beauty. The pinks were raw and saturated, the color of living tissue, of blooming coral, of planets beyond. My breath slowed, caught in the painting’s strange, dreamy weight, and I felt a quiet awe settle over me as I watched Tian turn back to his mural, his gaze distant and reverent, like he too marveled at the majestic world he had brought to life. I wondered whether those big, philosophical questions may never have neat answers, only the ongoing, purposeful acts of imagining and exploring them. 

The painting blurred the lines of ocean and cosmos, past and future, scientific and spiritual, and also my own small place within our boundless universe.