I tap, tap, tap an egg with the tip of a pin, slowly, breaking through the hardened shell, creating a tiny hole at the top and bottom. I press my lips to the top of the egg, covering the opening, and blow until my face is red, until the sturdy yolk cannot take the pressure. Clear and yellow liquids slip into the bowl beneath. Filling my cheeks with air, I blow again until the yolk is gone and the egg is light and hollow.

Through the pressure I apply with my will-filled breath, I transform something once full into an empty vessel. I clear the content of a form for the sake of transforming it into something new.

Our will is used in service to the future, to bring something into being whether enduring or fleeting, whether through destruction or creation or both. I dip my paintbrush into a tiny cup of paint, and a new purpose arises for the egg as patterns of pastel color cover its surface. My intention of creating beauty through my own influence begins to take shape.

As I paint, I wonder what is being hollowed out in the world right now. What is being transformed and by whom? What will come next, and how can my actions affect the outcome? Our trust in the process of change and our ability to take creative action, that is the will at Easter.

Photo From Shaping Light, Laura Liska, 2025.
As a photographer, my task is to be “between.” Each image arises out of a certain configuration that puts the three of us—leaf, light, and me—in conversation. Through my camera lens, I ask: leaf and light, which is shaping which? I went out to discover the will at Easter in nature. I found it in every loving trace created by light shaping substance shaping light.