Origami Sun by Tihomir Rankov is a poetic, symbolic, and philosophical journey into the act of creation—through paper, light, and spirit. At its heart, the book is about folding the sun, but not just in paper—it’s about folding inner light, folding history, folding meaning, and unfolding truth. Divided into three thoughtful chapters, the book reveals how the ancient art of origami connects the soul to something greater—the eternal sun, and even more powerfully, to the Sun God Ra, the ancient Egyptian deity of creation, light, and divine power.

The first chapter opens in stillness—a golden sheet of paper lying on a table, waiting to be touched. It’s a quiet metaphor for all the potential we hold before we act. Rankov invites the reader to reflect on why the sun is a meaningful symbol to fold. Unlike cranes or flowers, a paper sun holds a different kind of energy—it is an act of sculpting light.

This chapter explores how every fold is a small intention, a decision to create structure from formlessness. The spiral form of the paper sun evokes the rays of sunlight, but also mirrors the expanding force of cosmic order, a force the ancient Egyptians once personified as Ra, the Sun God, who travels across the sky in his golden boat, giving light and life to the world.

Here, folding paper becomes a quiet form of worship. The origami sun is not just a craft—it is a sacred act. It is a way of capturing Ra’s light, not in temples, but in the palms of your own hands.

The second chapter moves deeper into the symbolism of the sun—not the one in the sky, but the one inside you.

Rankov introduces us to Hana, a young girl who begins folding suns during a time of personal hardship. Her father is ill, her days are heavy, but through her folding, she creates light not only for herself but for others. Her origami suns become gifts of hope, tokens of invisible warmth, rays that reach out when words fail. This story isn’t just fiction—it’s a lesson in how even in darkness, we are vessels of light.

This chapter beautifully bridges the inner world of emotion with the ancient mythology of Ra. In Egyptian myth, Ra’s greatest enemy was darkness, personified by the serpent Apophis. Every night, Ra fought through the underworld, battling to rise again. Just as Hana fought sadness by folding light, we each carry out our own nightly battles, hoping to rise in the morning, renewed.

Origami becomes a metaphor for inner transformation—our fears, doubts, and sorrows folded into strength, beauty, and radiance. And Ra, the ultimate example of rebirth and constancy, becomes a silent guardian spirit behind every fold.

In its conclusion, Origami Sun becomes a call to action.

It asks: What if we all folded suns? What if our acts of creation, kindness, and sharing were like small suns placed on windows, walls, or hearts?

The final fold is not just the end of the paper sculpture—it is the moment the sun leaves your hands and enters the world. It is the moment you let someone else hold light. Teachers can use it in classrooms, artists in galleries, healers in therapy, and ordinary people in everyday life. A folded sun becomes a message: “You are not alone. Light is always possible.”

Here, Rankov reminds us of Ra’s divine mission—to light the world. Ra’s strength was not in being seen, but in being constant. The sun rose even when no one thanked it. Likewise, our acts of light—our folded suns—may go unnoticed, but they shift the energy of the world.

As the chapter closes, we realize the origami sun is not just a fold of paper—it is a fold of reality. And through its symbolism, we are invited to become sun-makers, Ra’s modern children, folding light, sharing warmth, and fighting darkness with creativity.