How We Got to Here. And Here We Are. Sounds From the Other Room.
There we are, splashing, playing. Suddenly we wake up and realize we’ve arrived, but from where we are not sure. And why we are here is just as great a mystery. Planted in the earth, as ancient as the soil itself, we are here. Landmarks all around suggest a worn and ancient path, but even if we remember to ask, the answer, engraved on time itself, still eludes us. And so we listen and the silence echoes all around. How did we get here? From where did we come? What, or who, summoned us? And why? And, now that we are here, what was it that we came to do?
Sounds from the other room. We hear them all the time, hardly aware, we continue on undisturbed, undeterred. Other sounds stab at us in terror or curl our brow in curiosity or our lips in pleasured anticipation. Drawn in as if by a string knotted to a tiny tin toy we leave what we are doing and move towards the hush, the giggle, the crash, the knock, the sounds from the other room, to see what is waiting for us there.