16 Oct
Where do I start? At the beginning? I don’t know where that is. Starting from scratch feels, well, scratchy…uncomfortable. I want to find my self in the middle of something. Like being in the midst of a rain storm in some Ecuadorian jungle. The sound of water falling on leaves and damp earth almost deafening. But often, I find that I am in the desert. The sounds there, so quiet. Not even much wind.
Like a feeling in the mind, the silence seems to take up physical space in my brain. It’s harder to tune out than the noise. I use the noise to quiet the silence. Silence is almost too real, too sharp. It cuts to the quick, against raw nerves. What is left lying there when all the chaos of busyness is stripped away? Like a scalpel revealing what needs to be removed – What is artifice? – What is cancerous? – What is necessary? – What can be used?
At some point, almost imperceptibly, the unbearableness of the quiet has given way to the hum of productivity. Finally something takes form. I am still tempted to bring back the noise, but what if…me and the silence… make some noise of our own?
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