A couple weeks ago I caught a brief exchange between a mom and daughter walking towards me:
Child: (with backpack) Actually art is everywhere, because the world is actually art.โ
Mom: (holding childโs hand) โReally?โ
Child: โYeah.โ
Mom: (thoughtfully surprised) โOh~โ
A few days ago I spent an hour in an anechoic chamber. It was very dark, and very quiet. There were three others with me, and we mostly heard each othersโ stomachs grumbling. I might have heard my jugular but Iโm not totally sure - maybe I only felt it. Toward the end, one of the others fell asleep.
I thought of John Cage, famous for his exploration of silence, and his โview of the arts which does not separate them from the rest of life, but rather confuses the difference between Art and Life.โ He and the child with the backpack would have gotten along, I think.
Speaking of silence, yesterday I attended an (unprogrammed) Quaker friends meeting. We sat in silence, for the entire hour, with only the sounds of the occasional cough or passing car. And, I was reminded of the words of Ursula Le Guin:
Only in silence the word,
Only in dark the light,
Only in dying life:
Bright the hawkโs flight
On the empty sky.