The Death of Being Bored

One thing I’ve noticed at events is how uncomfortable we’ve become with waiting. If there’s a spare thirty seconds, a phone appears.

Waiting for a friend.

Waiting for a drink.

Waiting for a speech to begin.

Even waiting for an elevator.

The instinct is almost automatic now. What’s interesting is that I spend a lot of time observing these in-between moments. As a live illustrator, my job involves paying attention to people while events unfold around me. And I’ve noticed that moments of boredom have become increasingly rare. Not because there are fewer opportunities to be bored. Because we’ve become very good at filling them.

I don’t say this as a criticism. I do it too. But it has made me think about what we’re losing when every spare moment is occupied. Some of my best ideas have arrived while waiting. Not during focused work. Not during a meeting. But while staring out a window. Walking somewhere. Sitting quietly with nothing particular to do. Boredom creates space. Space for observation. Space for reflection. Space for unexpected thoughts to appear.

At events, I occasionally see something that feels almost unusual now. A guest stops and watches. Not for a few seconds. For several minutes. They’re watching a piece of calligraphy being written. Or an illustration take shape. Or someone creating something by hand.

No phone.

No scrolling.

Just attention.

I’ve always found that fascinating. Perhaps part of the appeal of live art isn’t the finished piece. Perhaps it’s the opportunity to witness a process unfold in real time. To slow down long enough to see something being made.

In a culture that increasingly values speed, maybe attention itself is becoming a luxury.

And maybe that’s why people keep stopping to watch.

Hermès in pencil | Illustration by Cai (Soy Street)