Art has always been a reflection of the collective mind. Look closely at what a society creates and you will see what it values. The Ancient Egyptians evolved from nomadic tribes that followed herds for survival to builders who carved their memories into some of the most enduring monuments in human history. They chose farming cycles, the tracking of time, the movement of stars, and the worship of gods to cover their temple walls. What they recorded in art was not decoration but a lasting account of belief and purpose.
The carvings were not decoration. They were instruction manuals for life, maps of the heavens, and affirmations of faith. Every figure, symbol, and pattern were tied to how people lived and how they understood their place in the universe. These were not stories for entertainment, but messages intended to be preserved and passed down.
Look into the mirror of our age and the picture is less certain. The tools of storytelling that once recorded what mattered most are now used for different ends. We still tell stories, but often not to preserve or teach. Instead, they are used to sell, to manipulate, and to manufacture ideas that may not reflect reality at all.
Many argue that the myths of the past were nothing more than stories. But if that were true, why did ancient cultures selectively carve only certain events and symbols, and then work so hard to keep them alive across generations? They understood that art carries weight. To choose what to preserve was to shape the future.
The irony is that today we hold tools more powerful than anything the ancients could imagine. We can capture history instantly. We can share knowledge across the globe in seconds. We can create works that merge sound, motion, and image into experiences richer than any stone relief. And yet, much of what we use these tools for is trivial. Endless feeds of distraction, images designed only to sell products, stories designed to hold attention for a moment and then vanish.
If art reflects culture, what does our current output say about us? Are we documenting the truths of our age or drowning them in noise? Are we using the greatest storytelling tools ever invented to benefit humanity, or have we lost our way?
We still have the power to decide what will last. The Egyptians carved into stone, knowing their messages might outlive them. We carve into screens, hoping for a passing glance. The choice remains with us. We can spend our tools on distraction, or we can aim them at meaning. What we choose to preserve today will one day tell the story of who we really were.