"newberry window" william conger 1990.
"i sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes." rabindranath tagore
there are days when the world passes by as i sit and listen to the sound of my own voice. the voice unpacks the days and nights - useless heaps of information and experience that shouldn't have happened, don't need to be there, have no value. somehow they fill an emptiness - it's the emptiness that i seek.
in that emptiness is all the fullness i've ever craved - the fullness that has occupied my every waking thought and which i have tried to fool myself into believing has been fulfilled through all the transitory distractions this world has to offer.
sometimes i just want to sit and look through the window of steven and hear nothing. nothing at all. and then allow the allness of everything to flood in.
