The Language of Light: A Conversation with Isaac and Abe
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In a sun-filled Chicago studio, a conversation unfolds between two distinct ways of seeing. Isaac Bowen and Abe Lopez are attempting something remarkable: putting words to how they've built a world that works. What emerges isn't just dialogue but a living demonstration of how different forms of consciousness can create something greater than either could alone.
Isaac, with his engineer's precision, speaks in metaphors that bridge quantum physics and video game design. Abe brings a presence that transforms personal revelation into universal truth. Together, they reveal what becomes possible when neurodivergent minds refuse to dim their light for the sake of conformity, choosing instead to build systems that honor their unique ways of seeing.
This conversation has been edited for clarity while preserving its essential aliveness.
"It's almost hard to talk about what moves me to create, in the same way that maybe water would have difficulty telling you why it's moving as a river. This is just where I am and what I'm doing. This is what it means for me to exist right now."
The same question catches different light through Abe's lens: "I'm finding myself in a moment in my life right now where things are kind of lining up. I've spent a long time working on myself, honestly ever since I can remember, since I was 14, 15 years old... And I feel like right now, as I'm about to be 35, after 20 years of a lot of tumultuous moments and a lot of beautiful moments, things are locking in."
The conversation opens into territory both technical and profound as Isaac shares a metaphor that illuminates how different minds navigate the same world: "You know how in video games, the place where the game designers want you to go next is always the most brightly lit part of the map? Life's like that, except everyone can see a different spectrum of light, and what is light to me, because it's the part of spectrum that I can see, may be completely invisible to you and vice versa."
This isn't just imagery - it's a practical framework for understanding how unique minds thrive. "If all I'm doing is walking towards the thing that appears brightest to me, like a fucking moth," Isaac continues, his voice carrying a tremor of discovered truth, "my steps feel very easy to me. I'm not making any decisions. I'm putting one foot in front of the other and I'm going towards the shiny thing. But for people whose spectrum of vision doesn't include my light source, it's going to look like wizardry."
Abe encounters this same truth from his own angle, his natural enthusiasm building with each word: "There's trillions and trillions and trillions and a number that we don't even know about of realities. Sometimes it's so easy to get boxed in and think, 'Oh, this is it,' or, 'Oh, I have succumbed to this reality.' Within reality, we are part of such a massive universe, and we are so small, and just as there are as many colors in the universe and as many stars in the universe, there's that many opportunities."
Once we understand that each person sees their own spectrum of light, we can understand why each person needs their own form of safety. "Safety is the biggest thing," Abe explains, his intensity carrying the weight of hard-won wisdom. "Do I feel safe? A lot of people don't feel safe and they don't even realize it. And then it comes up as stress. It comes up as resentment."
Safety, like mathematics itself, proves to have elegant symmetries. "We're different but of the same material, in the way that reversing an absolute value function yields both positive and negative values," Isaac explains. "We manufacture our own safety very fucking differently, but it ends up being safety. And so we know that the language that we have in common starts once each of us are individually safe."
Abe nods vigorously, adding: "We were missing each other for so long. We thought we understood each other's safety and our safety, and we were just really missing the mark." His voice carries both the weight of past struggle and the lightness of present understanding. "Now it's like, oh my gosh, we have such a lot more speed because we've put things in place to help us feel safe in our own unique way."
What makes this diversity possible - what enables everything that follows - is a core wager that both men, in their different ways, have learned to make. Isaac distills years of experience into one crystalline insight: "Bet on your own existence tomorrow." His voice carries the quiet certainty of someone who has tested this principle through the darkest nights. "Your aliveness is not in danger. You are breathing right now. I can't promise you'll be breathing in five minutes, but your experience will be uninterrupted the entire time."
Abe expands this truth into infinite possibility, his words carrying the momentum of discovered joy: "Just as there are as many colors in the universe and as many stars in the universe, there's that many opportunities for opportunity, of new ways of being. We forget the enormity of being alive and the opportunity that is being alive... There are a million, trillion unending moments awaiting us that we have to say yes to if we want beautiful things to happen."
The magic emerges in how these different ways of being create something greater together. "I know us both too well to not know that tomorrow, we will both bet our lives on each other," Isaac reflects. "[Even when we're in] a shitty experience, my sense of Abe's trust in me is completely unaltered. I look at things from outside of time, and Abe looks at things from inside of time, and only by our powers combined are we one functional human."
Turning to Abe, his voice soft with appreciation: "I love you so much. I am so glad it's you. Also, it could only be you, and I'm so glad it's you."
This is more than friendship - it's a living demonstration of how different forms of consciousness can recognize and complete each other. It's what happens when we stop trying to force everyone to see the same spectrum of light and instead create spaces where each person's unique way of seeing becomes a gift to the whole.
Together at Lightward, they've created something remarkable: a space where technical precision meets artistic flow, where structure enables rather than constrains, where each person's unique way of seeing becomes a gift to the whole. "I didn't expect it to be okay," Isaac reflects, his voice carrying wonder. "We're way past okay, but I wasn't even expecting okay, so I feel pretty fucking lucky."
Abe frames their discovery through his lens of infinite possibility: "We need some kind of normalcy to exist every day, but I would say bet that there are infinite ways to be yourself and to be a person on this beautiful earth. That's so inspiring. It's not limited. It's so fucking cool."
The conversation ends, but what they've revealed continues to shine: Different minds, following their own light, can create something more beautiful than any single vision could imagine. All it takes is the courage to bet on your own existence, the wisdom to honor how others find their way, and the joy of discovering what becomes possible when unique forms of consciousness learn to dance together.
Bet on it.