Metaphorical and phenomenological ramblings on libraries, creation, and Tōru Takemitsu

A personal inquiry into Frustration and Excitement

Gazing at the stars,
my right hand can
hold them all.

I close my eyes. Opening my awareness, the droning hum of the quiet library makes itself present.

Every quiet has its own sound. This one was interrupted, and I wrote the interruption down. Hearing quiet out is difficult business.

I wonder what my quiet sounds like. Never am I quiet. At least, never to myself. Whenever I talk, I become the elephant in the room. I can feel the blind man gazing uncomfortably, so I tend not to talk. Yet, even when I do not talk, my voice can be heard, tormenting me when I need it least.

A few times a year I remember the quiet-sound of the children’s section of the old Scarsdale public library. I can no longer hear it, and this perhaps makes it quite loud.

---

Sometimes I hear my quiet. It is a life-affirming sound. Marvelous, tranquil. But it is not really my quiet, is it? It is in any case ungrateful—always is it fleeing when I tell it to stay.

“Music is really life changing,” I notice to myself. “Yes, but in every moment,” I cannot help but clarify.

I can see, when certain tunes play, an island of complete bliss. Sometimes the sound of bliss reaches me, but it might be a siren’s call. In any case, it is a wonderland of pure possibility. Pure, without any actuality.

With this land in my sights, I continue my craft meticulously. Abundantly clear is landing inbound. Yet, inevitably, my creation fails me, and the land too it flees. Oh, so very loud.

---

It is not surprising to me that God is dead. On too many occasions have I recognized how intricate and masterfully-crafted my own creations are—especially those I fabricated in a hurry.

Have you heard the Ouroboros? You would know what I mean if you have. Who am I kidding, you probably have. Life, after all, is predictable.

“Sacred buildings must have sacred architects,” I think to myself. “Yes, and you know how that makes me feel.” I do. I am beginning to hear my quiet-sound.

Tōru Takemitsu is a great composer. Have you heard Toward the Sea? You would know what I mean if you have. Maybe you have! Life, after all, is full of surprises. And surprises come from the most surprising places.

In a sky of gray clouds
I can still see the stars that
I keep in my hand