When Salvador Dalí started a new painting, he didn’t reach for his brush. Instead, his first act was to grasp a heavy key. His second was to fall asleep. But at the precise moment that slumber overtook him, the key would slip from his grip. The clatter as the key struck a plate he’d earlier placed on the floor yanked him back into full consciousness.
Dalí describes this ritual in his 1948 book, 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship. He called it "sleeping without sleep" and, feeble pun intended, insisted that the practice unlocked his creativity.
Today, sleep is increasingly squeezed. It may have become trite to point it out, but it's true. With each generation we're getting less sleep. Ever-connected devices present a deluge of options to entertain, inform, communicate and distract. The light our screens emit is rich in the blue wavelengths known to make us more alert. So the sleep we get is of worse quality, too.
Dalí describes this ritual in his 1948 book, 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship. He called it "sleeping without sleep" and, feeble pun intended, insisted that the practice unlocked his creativity.
Today, sleep is increasingly squeezed. It may have become trite to point it out, but it's true. With each generation we're getting less sleep. Ever-connected devices present a deluge of options to entertain, inform, communicate and distract. The light our screens emit is rich in the blue wavelengths known to make us more alert. So the sleep we get is of worse quality, too.