Often, we speak of silence, a silent house, the quiet and silence of the landscape, the silence of a hospital or a temple, the silence of night, etc.
But, in none of these cases is the silence real. Our silence is noise.
Noise as the only bridge between sound and silence, between what we know and what we wish.
As soon as all is quiet and becomes mute, when we think we have achieved silence, we discover that something interrupts, something as close and familiar as our own body. Our noisy body.
For Blake, a thought fills immensity. Maybe a thought is nothing more than one more of our body's noises and our body one more of life's nosies.
I invite you to listen to these noises
I invite you to image silence.
