silence

5/4/14

  It started as a small drip from an old pipe leading up to the radiator in the apartment upstairs. I emailed the maintenance staff, as is the customary procedure in my apartment building. When it was summarily examined, i was assured it was no problem. Two weeks later, i walk in the door of my apartment and i'm greeted by a deluge falling from my living room ceiling. I had a choice, preserve the continuity of this year of silence and loose virtually every other artwork i've made (not to mention the danger of having the people upstairs come crashing down through a waterlogged floor) or place an emergency call. I quickly made the emergency call and shattered my 4 months of silence. I could have found someone else to make the call, but time was of the essence and the noise would have been the same anyway.
  I suppose a voice is handy to have in an emergency situation like the one i had. Many people think a gun is handy to have if their lives are threatened. Both are too noisy and potentially lethal for my taste.
  Artwork that has been labored over for countless hours can be ruined in an instant. A misplaced chisel strike can instantaneously destroy a statue. A mistake in the development time for a roll of film can utterly ruin the capture of an ephemeral moment that is now gone forever.
  I consider this piece a failure. Art is perfect, or it is crap.
  I will strive to continue my silence, and it may very well extend beyond a year, because i have come to love silence. I may continue to write ruminations on the subject in order to quietly purge them from my system.
  The failure of this piece has brought back that old uneasiness that has haunted me for most of my life. It's like the feeling you get when you're driving down the highway and you think you might have already passed your exit, but you just keep going anyway...