Welcome, Sallygirl! Thank you so much. I am sure you will find things of interest here. I have been around since about 2012 and although I have been absent for prolonged periods, I always come back. It has a coziness about it. Mind you, there is craziness, too. But what always brings me back is the friends I have here.
Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea" (the waves breaking, I assume) and the sound of the gulls? I would think of those sounds as bringing not "silence" but "peace of mind", whereas the "Sounds of Silence" they cannot be (unless Simon and Garfunkel meant that to be).
Precisely the point, Buzz. You wouldn't know silence unless you know the crashing of the sea, would you? Or another loud sound? This poem originates from a very personal experience, however, the interpretation to the reader can be from their perspective. Thing about being by the sea, listening to the waves, the seagulls and yet hearing a silence...
No, it isn't the Simon and Garfunkel silence I was thinking of.
Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea" (the waves breaking, I assume) and the sound of the gulls?
I have spent hundreds of hours along and standing in mountain streams, Buzz; after a few minutes, I no longer "hear" the sound of the flowing water … I "feel" it, am engulfed by it and become part of it.
There is a Zen koan … ("a paradoxical anecdote or riddle, used in Zen Buddhism to demonstrate the inadequacy of logical reasoning and to provoke enlightenment") one that fits what i'm saying …
A man was sitting quietly listening to music when another man approached and asked, "who are you?"
The man "answered" by humming the tune he was listening to.
I am not a believer that "Silence is golden", because absolute silence is rarely experienced. (Perhaps astronauts have experienced it when floating in a space station), but there are background sounds (such as your gurgling of a running stream, A.Mac) that many may equate with "silence". I equate it with "peace". I was at peace more than 40 years ago standing alone at dusk on a cliff at the most southerly point of the USA, the southerly point of the big island of Hawaii, just after a storm when the waves were flowing towards me and crashing on the rocks below, a fine ocean spray on my face, and no other sound.
I have spent hundreds of hours along and standing in mountain streams, Buzz; after a few minutes, I no longer "hear" the sound of the flowing water … I "feel" it, am engulfed by it and become part of it.
"If you don't become the ocean you'll be seasick everyday" ... Leonard Cohen
It's a strange and beautiful experience; and, often hard to describe. Interestingly, we equate silence with peace. I think that is quite telling; especially contrasted with experience spent in the woods (or the wild or whatever...),as ya start to recognize that there is never a moment of actual silence...
This article is fantastic and a true blessing to all of us. Thank you both for sharing with us!
I spent an hour (TRAGICALLY, ONLY ONE HOUR) in Muir Woods in 1988 … a bus tour (the only option I had since I was working out in San Francisco and had little free time and no car).
The bus stopped in front of the gift shop and most of the passengers went directly inside … INSANITY, INSENSITIVITY … are you kidding me?
I went to the trees and … since we're talking "oxymoron" … it was the "loudest silence" I ever "heard"!
That's the only way I can express the experience … and I'll never forget it.
"Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea"......"
No, it is not.
There are many kinds of 'silence', in this case Neetu and Mac have demonstrated how the sounds of the waves and the sea gulls can silence the sounds of everyday life.
At first take, I had the same thought as you. I had to study the entire frame for a while, and read Neetus' poem 2 or 3 times, before I began to understand the 'silence' they're portraying.
Yes, Jerry, and the other sounds that may be meaningless. Every reader finds a different meaning and that is what poetry is about. We apply it the context of our lives. Thank you.
E very reader finds a different meaning and that is what poetry is about. We apply it the context of our lives. Thank you.
You're welcome Neetu.
You and Mac have created something special here. It's akin to visual music, like musicians creating a song, one provides the lyrics, the other the melody. Here, you provided the lyrics, Mac the visual melody.
Katpen, very sweet of you to say that. As long as I have words, I know Mac will always have a perfectly compatible photo for them. Problem is, when the words run dry.........:(
Obviously your efforts are for us to reflect and think inwards with your work in addition to that which is audible from our surroundings. For me, I don't know is there has ever been a time where there was silence on the inside, and I don't know if it is possible for me. The noise from the gears clanking is constant.
Back to your reference to the sea, in what now seems long ago, I had the privilege to do underwater sound analysis. The sounds found in both blue and brown water are something to behold. I think in the process of listening to them, was the only time in my life where my inner thoughts could be considered silent.
Flynavy, thank you for the reflection you have shared with us. Silence is something I have often thought about and have actually written 3 or 4 poems on it, each with a different perspective and in different moods. There is even one about how loud silence is. It is a highly relative thing, like most things. Not all of us even do well with silence! It can be deadly and crushing, or it can be gentle and many things in between.
I have never been underwater but it sounds like you had a great opportunity to listen to its sounds!
Hopefully the first of many.
Thank you, Mac. It looks beautiful. Yes, I hope it is the first of many also.
Glad you like it, dear Raven. Thank you.
Hopefully the first of many.
Indeed.
Excellent piece of work. Kudos for the both of you.
Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for being here, Jerry.
Thank you for being here, Jerry.
My pleasure Mac.
Thank you so much, Jerry. Your compliment means a lot.
Welcome, Sallygirl! Thank you so much. I am sure you will find things of interest here. I have been around since about 2012 and although I have been absent for prolonged periods, I always come back. It has a coziness about it.
Mind you, there is craziness, too. But what always brings me back is the friends I have here.
Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea" (the waves breaking, I assume) and the sound of the gulls? I would think of those sounds as bringing not "silence" but "peace of mind", whereas the "Sounds of Silence" they cannot be (unless Simon and Garfunkel meant that to be).
Precisely the point, Buzz. You wouldn't know silence unless you know the crashing of the sea, would you? Or another loud sound? This poem originates from a very personal experience, however, the interpretation to the reader can be from their perspective. Thing about being by the sea, listening to the waves, the seagulls and yet hearing a silence...
No, it isn't the Simon and Garfunkel silence I was thinking of.
Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea" (the waves breaking, I assume) and the sound of the gulls?
I have spent hundreds of hours along and standing in mountain streams, Buzz; after a few minutes, I no longer "hear" the sound of the flowing water … I "feel" it, am engulfed by it and become part of it.
There is a Zen koan … ("a paradoxical anecdote or riddle, used in Zen Buddhism to demonstrate the inadequacy of logical reasoning and to provoke enlightenment") one that fits what i'm saying …
A man was sitting quietly listening to music when another man approached and asked, "who are you?"
The man "answered" by humming the tune he was listening to.
I am not a believer that "Silence is golden", because absolute silence is rarely experienced. (Perhaps astronauts have experienced it when floating in a space station), but there are background sounds (such as your gurgling of a running stream, A.Mac) that many may equate with "silence". I equate it with "peace". I was at peace more than 40 years ago standing alone at dusk on a cliff at the most southerly point of the USA, the southerly point of the big island of Hawaii, just after a storm when the waves were flowing towards me and crashing on the rocks below, a fine ocean spray on my face, and no other sound.
I have spent hundreds of hours along and standing in mountain streams, Buzz; after a few minutes, I no longer "hear" the sound of the flowing water … I "feel" it, am engulfed by it and become part of it.
"If you don't become the ocean you'll be seasick everyday" ... Leonard Cohen
Thank you, Pat. You are right.
It's a strange and beautiful experience; and, often hard to describe. Interestingly, we equate silence with peace. I think that is quite telling; especially contrasted with experience spent in the woods (or the wild or whatever...),as ya start to recognize that there is never a moment of actual silence...
This article is fantastic and a true blessing to all of us. Thank you both for sharing with us!
:~)
there is never a moment of actual silence...
I spent an hour (TRAGICALLY, ONLY ONE HOUR) in Muir Woods in 1988 … a bus tour (the only option I had since I was working out in San Francisco and had little free time and no car).
The bus stopped in front of the gift shop and most of the passengers went directly inside … INSANITY, INSENSITIVITY … are you kidding me?
I went to the trees and … since we're talking "oxymoron" … it was the "loudest silence" I ever "heard"!
That's the only way I can express the experience … and I'll never forget it.
Indeed, Larry, you speak from wisdom.
Thank you for such a lovely compliment.
"Is it not somewhat oxymoronic to speak of "silence" at the same time as the "crashing of the sea"......"
No, it is not.
There are many kinds of 'silence', in this case Neetu and Mac have demonstrated how the sounds of the waves and the sea gulls can silence the sounds of everyday life.
Okay, Jerry. That's not an unreasonable explanation. I was being too literal, perhaps.
Hi Buzz,
At first take, I had the same thought as you. I had to study the entire frame for a while, and read Neetus' poem 2 or 3 times, before I began to understand the 'silence' they're portraying.
You're certainly more thorough than I am.
You're certainly more thorough than I am.
Not usually. It depends on the subject.
Yes, Jerry, and the other sounds that may be meaningless. Every reader finds a different meaning and that is what poetry is about. We apply it the context of our lives.
Thank you.
E very reader finds a different meaning and that is what poetry is about. We apply it the context of our lives.
Thank you.
You're welcome Neetu.
You and Mac have created something special here. It's akin to visual music, like musicians creating a song, one provides the lyrics, the other the melody. Here, you provided the lyrics, Mac the visual melody.
We look forward to seeing more of your work.
It's akin to visual music,
Good analogy, Jerry.
Thank you again, Jerry.
Wonderful combination of word and art. I look forward to seeing more more of these
Thanks, Perrie.
Wonderful! Can't wait to see more from this talented team.
Very nice, and thanks to both of you.....
Obviously your efforts are for us to reflect and think inwards with your work in addition to that which is audible from our surroundings. For me, I don't know is there has ever been a time where there was silence on the inside, and I don't know if it is possible for me. The noise from the gears clanking is constant.
Back to your reference to the sea, in what now seems long ago, I had the privilege to do underwater sound analysis. The sounds found in both blue and brown water are something to behold. I think in the process of listening to them, was the only time in my life where my inner thoughts could be considered silent.
Thanks again.
Flynavy, thank you for the reflection you have shared with us. Silence is something I have often thought about and have actually written 3 or 4 poems on it, each with a different perspective and in different moods. There is even one about how loud silence is. It is a highly relative thing, like most things. Not all of us even do well with silence! It can be deadly and crushing, or it can be gentle and many things in between.
I have never been underwater but it sounds like you had a great opportunity to listen to its sounds!
A Mac and Neetu
Great picture and beautiful words.
Thanks for sharing
Thank you, Robert. Glad you think so.
Excellent Neetu and Mac.
Completely lovely!
Thank you for this!
You are sweet, Dowser dear. Thank you.
Very nice. Along with the others, I hope the two of you will produce more!
Oh, I hope so too, Bob. Thank you.
I hear ya and it's beautiful!!!
Glad you do, Six!
Thank you.