Painting Reality: Grandpa Bunny, Observer Mechanics, and the Child Within
An old photograph recently pulled me back through time. It’s a snapshot from 1980: me, at six years old, posing in my bedroom in my pink ballet leotard. I’m standing in front of a mural of Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck that my scientist dad painted for me using a grid system. I was very proud of my outfit and remember admiring the four little pink glass crystals that adorned it.
Looking at this photo triggered a vivid flash of nostalgia, and I suddenly remembered riding in the front seat (no seatbelt!) of my mom’s hideous mouse-grey Mini Morris to ballet class and trying to eat without staining my clothes, which rarely worked. I also thought of my beloved Grandpa Bunny book and its joyful illustrations. They were the best illustrations ever created, and I just knew that I would never be as good an artist; I still think they are fantastic!
The Bunnies Who Render the World
When I was four or five, that classic Walt Disney Little Golden Book was a favorite. The story follows Great-Grandpa Bunny Bunny, the founder of a rabbit town, who teaches the younger generations how to "prepare" the seasons.
In this world, the rabbits paint the spring flowers, the fall leaves, and even the long blue shadows on the winter snow. Without their skilled work, the world would be colorless and dull. When Grandpa eventually "goes away," the bunnies are heartbroken until they look up and realize he must still be with them, painting the sunset in the evening sky from the other side.
Perception as a "User Interface"
Looking back, I see exactly why this resonated so deeply. The themes I am still fascinated by today were all there: the power of art, the survival of consciousness, and the magic of our perception that generates our world for us on the fly, much like a video game.
This childhood story is a perfect metaphor for cognitive scientist Donald Hoffman’s framework of Observer Mechanics. Hoffman proposes that the physical world isn't an objective reality we simply "see," but a "user interface" constructed entirely by our consciousness. Just as Grandpa Bunny’s troupe renders a color-filled world, Hoffman suggests that we are the fundamental creators of our reality. We don't passively observe a pre-existing universe; our observation renders space-time itself. We are actively painting the world into existence at every moment.
Noa’s Painted Rainbow Book
I was moved by this old photo to create an art piece in the form of a physical "book" designed to keep my memories. I wanted it to feel worn and well-loved, like a companion since childhood.
The cover, created with the assistance of Google Gemini, was designed to look like a classic vintage Disney book featuring my six-year-old self. The spine is decorated with some of my childhood "artifacts," such as my favorite popsicle, a little globe my parents bought me when I entered first grade, and various other tchotchkes.
When you open the book, you’ll discover a 3-D illustration of my six-year-old self, framed by a twisting rainbow (I’ve always been obsessed with rainbows, especially as a child) and the wild morning glory flowers that grew on my street. Younger me is held in the hands of the "older Noa" I am today. The book closes with a gold heart locket and a heart-shaped key on a satin string - a concept I borrowed from my secret childhood diary. I wish I had kept that diary, or even remembered what I recorded in it.
Specifications:
Dimensions: 10 x 10 inches
Foundation: Wood panel and foam-core
Mediums: Acrylic paint, pen, and paper
Sculptural Elements: Paper clay and polymer clay
Finishing Touches: Gold leaf, metal accents, satin ribbon, and a vintage-style locket
A Life in Miniature
To paint my younger portrait inside the book, I bought miniature brushes because my illustrated head is about the size of my thumb. The series has presented many technical challenges that helped me grow my skills and vision, but my ultimate purpose is to reach back in time and touch the child I used to be - the one who still lives inside me.
With this piece, my present self embraces my younger self with love and compassion. I am sending her all my hard-earned life lessons and a promise that everything will be okay. I wonder if time, too, is just a perceptual illusion, a construct, and we’ve actually been one all along.
