You see it in the most iconic films. There is almost always a shot of a person, or even an animal, staring at the horizon. Sometimes it feels sad, other times more melancholic, but we have always been drawn to that feeling of looking straight ahead at the sky. We even created art that tries to replicate exactly what our eyes already see. But the real question here is, why does something so simple feel so deep, almost philosophical?
To even begin answering that, you have to look at how we live. The levels of stress we carry keep getting heavier. We sleep badly, eat badly, even love badly. It becomes this endless loop that we cannot really trace back to a clear beginning, but we definitely feel the cost of it. At some point it got out of our hands. And I would even say that this constant exhaustion pushes us, almost without noticing, to end the day by looking at the sky, as if we were quietly hoping for something better.
I know this might sound a bit pessimistic, but I am not going to pretend otherwise. We love a beautiful sunset because we project peace onto it. Calm. A pause. It is brief, it does not last, but it is enough to soften the weight of everything else. That is why the horizon keeps showing up in our lives, again and again, like a silent protagonist. You can see it clearly in how filmmakers use it, how they frame it, how they let it speak without saying anything.
And maybe that is where it connects with minimalism. The horizon is simple, almost empty, but it carries something real. You do not need much to feel it. A deep breath, a bit of silence, maybe a coffee in your hand or headphones on while you walk somewhere. It is always there, waiting. And in a life that feels more and more repetitive, what we are really looking for is that small shift. Something that breaks the pattern, even if just for a moment.
