Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Different Types of Silence: a collective list


The silence that lacks nothing

The silence that is not an absence but a presence

The silence of the street after a big snow; of a sleeping cat; of my broken furnace

The silence of remote stretches of Yellowstone Park in deep winter

The silence on the phone as a teenage boy asks a girl he has a crush on to the prom, awaiting her answer in 1956

The silence as you hold your breath, waiting for a balloon to pop; of birds when a hawk flies over

The silence needed by a piano tuner to bring notes back into agreement

The silence when you are not wanted; at the starting line, seconds before the race

The silence that used to be in libraries

The silence of appliances at rest; of the pitch dark in the middle of the night; of shared grief

The silence of the garden buried in snow; of the last little coal glowing in the wood stove at 6 a.m.; of all the day's silent moments put together

The silence of the sealed, stamped and addressed letter, sitting in the dark mailbox, waiting for pickup

The silence of your mouth opening and closing in shock

The silence in the house after visiting family drive away; of the back porch at 3:24 a.m.; of the tea kettle after the flame beneath it is extinguished

The silence once occupied by your laughter; of your lips on my fingertips; the silence after the tears

The silence between inhale and exhale; between the last muddled thought of the day and the dull inevitability of sleep 

The silence after the sigh; in the open heart that is full of hope; when the hawk has flown and the crows have settled

The silence of countless memories 

The silence of devotion; of a Cezanne still life; of the candle's flame in the dark; of swimming underwater

The silence between the last push and just before the newborn cries

The silence of living alone; of dreams; of dipping a brush into a freshly mixed batch of dusky blue; of waiting; of forever after

The silence in my mind during rare moments of meditation

The silence of my boots waiting at the bottom of the stairs

The silence of a great thaw; of a gigantic, sweeping, clattering gesture; of nursing a baby; of spreading cream cheese; of static

The silence of a quilter's needle

The silence after a party

The silence when I said "I'm leaving"

The silence of the dust just before the wind blows; of my heart in between beats; of a 4 a.m. full moon, when I am the only person awake to not hear it

The silence of the angel that is sitting on my shoulder; of the blood coursing through my veins; of the tears running down her face in those last moments of life

The silence of a space waiting to be filled

The silence between the punchline and the laugh; between "get set" and "go"

The silence after a kiss

The silence that is strained, peaceful, contemplative, deliberate, remorseful, gradual, angry, disapproving, empty, full, contented, appreciative, sad, dismissive, patient, enduring, relaxed, respectful, hurt, embarrassed, disappointed, accepting, compassionate, forgiving, uncomfortable, welcome, dreaded, embarrassing, lively, deathly

The silence of hundreds of nicotine-stained record albums from my dad’s collection that no one wants and that will never be heard

The silence of those moments, alone with my deceased mother, as she lay in her coffin looking radiant for the first time in many years

The silence of ink on the page; of a shadow behind the old barn door; of deep lampblack between stars; of the industry of anthills; of an idle hammer; of winter’s mountains; of heads bend over the algebra test

The silence of a bird-free winter day; of loneliness; of a daffodil about to open

The silence at night, in the winter, far from roads and houses; of the phone after I say goodbye and you hang up; of the cat walking after she lost her bells, again 

The silence just after the movie ends

The silence when I am the only one at work

The silence between footsteps in squeaky dry snow

The silence before the next hiccup; after hearing bad news; when you don't hear from someone you care about for a long time; when a car motor doesn't start and it's below zero outside

The silence in a room full of people during a crossword puzzle contest

The silence between loudspeaker announcements at the airport; between drops of a dripping faucet; between lightning and thunder

The silence of a Charlie Chaplin movie; of a fire alarm finally being shut off; of hearing loss; of the mind between thoughts; of longing; of being speechless; of the sky

The silence after the bowl is struck at the beginning of a Buddhist meditation

The silence when you imagine you can hear a pin drop

The silence between my blessed spouse’s snores

The silence when someone says something that offends your sensibilities and you don't say anything

The silence between the letters I type; between brush marks; between the notes; the silence between us now

The silence of an empty canvas; of things left unsaid; of things out of focus; of long, fall shadows; of swimming underwater; of an empty mailbox

The silence of my mother's name in stone

The silence after the children have left home

The silence after giving a wrong answer

The silence under a rock

The silence when I tell you I love you; the silence as you slam the door

The silence I breathe, lying under the stars; the silence I own

The silence of a broken harp; of the first night in a new house; of the last bus leaving the station; of a playground at midnight; of a sudden power failure

The silence from the children's playroom following giggling and whispers

The silence between our intertwined fingers; of my naked skin resting against yours; of a text message that says "I love you"

The silence of dresses hanging in the closet; of a failure to communicate

The silence of holding back

The silence of waiting for the kettle to boil

The silence after trust has been shattered; after certain truths are uttered; when there is nothing left to say

The silence of of my cats, hiding because they know they are going to the vet; of the piano before the concert begins; of my oven because I never cook

The silence of a secret glance; of a fawn in the far right field; of a creeping fog; of a blinding headache

The silence of the wheels on the path not taken; of unspoken forgiveness; of old photographs

The silence in the midst of a life-threatening situation

The silence perceived/remembered after deep thoughts 

The silence of the audience when an actor has touched them deeply, just before the applause begins

The silence of fresh challah bread baking; of red lips; of the hovering wind over tufts of grass

The silence that cocoons the ringing in your ears

The silence just before the crunch of a cracker

The silence of a forgotten song; of voices too far way to hear; of a bird singing on the other side of the window glass 

The silence of the Sahara; of the snowman; of the newly carpeted floor; of a new leaf pushing through the soil

The silence after the diagnosis

The silence when you ask your father for a loan; when the tipsy party hostess drops the birthday cake; when someone you don't love says "I love you"

The silence of the children in a circle when the scary story ends

The silence in the car when the cop asks "do you know what speed you were going?"

The silence you feel in your heart when you come across your discarded wedding ring

The silence of an unworn shoe and an undarned sock; of a folded scarf; of lily pads, floating; of unrequited love; of a still rocking chair; of false teeth in a jar; of mold growing 

The silence of Buddha in the woods; of Stonehenge covered in snow

The silence of uncertainty; of a hug after a flurry of words; of an empty cupboard; of routine

The silence right after the snooze button is indulgently pressed; right before a chance is taken; right before you say hello

The silence that should be broken

The silence after the last word of a good book

The silence when you realize your question will never be answered; when the lullaby is over; when the hacking cough finally leaves your body

The silence of non-motion

The silence before and the silence after

The silence of tears unshed and pain unexpressed; of lightning bugs among the reeds; of a dog house without a dog; of a shooting star; of judgment, heavy and forever getting in the way of compassion 
The silence right before you say "I'm Sorry"

The silence it takes to hear the words "I'm Sorry"

The silence of the bathroom mirror; of not fitting in; of not knowing how to ask for help; of dancing to no music; of the present moment; of a sunset; of prayer; of a blooming morning glory

The silence of good wishes withheld; of an unsolicited hug; of a surprise kiss 

The silence just before the coyote howls

The silence between rain drops; between a clock’s tick and its tock

The silence of a giant redwood tree

The silence of hope that won't be silent forever; of a rare moment in a big city

The silence sung about by Simon and Garfunkel

The silence between yin and yang

The silence of an empty mind

The silence of my mother's long-kept secret; of a blank notebook; of a prolonged daydream; of 3 crows staring right at you; of high tide and low tide; of seaweed and driftwood; of an unsharpened pencil

The silence before starting to write 

The silence of the house before I enter

The silence — oh happy anticipation! — when the storyteller opens her mouth, just before she begins to weave her tale

The silence before the baby emerges

The silence after I said what needed to be said; of an Adirondack cabin; of my brother, who thinks more than he speaks

The silence when you take out your hearing aids; when a hybrid car switches to the battery; when the semester ends

The silence when first awakening; when I am home alone; between the calls of songbirds; after a wave has crashed

The silence of closing the curtains and shutting out the night; of countries that no longer exist; of a determined NO, spoken only with my eyes; of searching for exactly the right word; of last week's flower bouquet, slouching out of the vase 

The silence between this world and the next; between zero and one

The silence that we all need

The silence of silence

Thank you to all the wonderful people who contributed to this list:
Alan Heath
Alexandria Crump
Amy E. Bartell
Andrea Staffeld
Antonia Matthew
Barbara Anger
Barbara Cartwright
Barbara Force
Barbara West
Bill Holcombe
Carol Bossard
Carol Clarke
Carol Kammen
Carole Russell
Deanalís Resto
Diana Kreutzer 
Donna Holt     
Dudley Paul
Gabrielle Vehar
Gay Huddle
Hank Roberts 
Jayalalita
Judith Andrew
Julia Grace Brewster Rosoff 
Kathleen Morrow
Kimberly Bunker
Laura LaRosa
Lillian Tuskey
Linda Keeler
Loretta Louviere
Lynne Taetzsch
Margaret Dennis
Martha Blue Waters
Melissa Hamilton
Melissa Zarem
Meryl Young
Mieke Ruina
Mihal Ronen
Nancy Lee Koschmann
Patrick Robbins
Patty Flannery
Patty Little
Paula Peters Marra 
Peggy Miller
Phoenix Wiggins
Rachel J. Siegel
Randy Ehrenberg
Raymond Edwin
Roxanne VanWormer
Saskya van Nouhuys
Seraphina Buckholtz
Sharon K. Yntema
Stiller Zusman
Sue Perlgut
Summer Killian
Susan Koon
Tish Pearlman
Vickie Van Camp
William Myers
Zee Zahava






















Wednesday, February 19, 2014

What's in That?


People were asked to check the contents of their pockets, wallet, pocketbook, purse, knapsack, backpack, nightstand, coffee table, pants cuffs, coat closet, etc.

Here are some of the things they discovered . . . 


an acorn, small sable hair paintbrush, library cards for three cities I am not currently living in, postage stamps, the key to my best friend's front door, protein bar, string cheese, six inch wooden ruler, map of Lake Ontario, $12.47, eye patch, ticket stub from a Sutton Foster concert

a beat-up folded yellow post-it note on which I wrote a quote that makes me smile:  "Be yourself. Everyone else it taken."

book titled You Are Here: Personal Geographies

the key to St. James's palace, London

folding scissors, lip balm, a rubber band, paper clips, a large safety pin, miniature Hershey bars

list of books I mean to read, dried out pen, chamomile tea bag, photographs of grandchildren, vertigo medication

movie stub for The Lego Movie, cucumber-scented hand sanitizer,
pen light, coupon to that restaurant I really love but no one else likes

a poem, written on the back of a parking payment stub a month ago

wads and wads of tissues, sorted used/unused

Nintendo 3DS in case a stranger wants to play Pokemon

gym pants, rolled tight and rubber-banded, for sporadic I-must-run-now moments

a tiny ice cream taster spoon

contact information for a local potter

leather driving gloves (cost 10 cents at a church sale)

receipts from buying coal and propane

new Kinney Drugs value card, single tablet of Sudafed PE for sinus headaches, Ricola Throat Drops and Ricola Throat Drop wrappers

small plastic cat found on the street — a good luck charm

assorted and mysterious crumbs

lint & hope

photo of my wife; photo of my grandson

black pen, red pen, mechanical pencil

special cloth for cleaning eyeglasses, packet of gum, plastic toothpicks with brush on one end

a Zoltar Speaks fortune teller card -— my lucky numbers are 36, 27, 14, 07, 19, 29

admission receipt to The Mob Museum

receipt for 3 glass skulls filled with vodka  — souvenirs for the kids

four bookmarks, three of them from Iceland

calculator, a bottle of whiteout, earphones for my Nook 

half of a nail file — the dog ate the other half

a button that says "Vegan for the People/ for the Planet/ for the Animals"

black bandana with white paisley design, to use as emergency handkerchief

lint removal roller, for cat hair

receipt from Hickey's Music Center for a cable

spare elastic shockmount bands for Rode NT1-A microphone

1/8" to 1/4" adapter for stereo audio jack

small rose quartz to keep the heart balanced

water jar

feminine  hygiene products because I just never know anymore about the timing of things

emergency inhaler, not needed for 18 years

a drawing on a post-it note of a horse, made for me by my husband 6 years ago

amber and sandalwood oil

drawing pens and small sketchbook

free passes to the indoor trampoline place

Fisherman's Friend cough lozenges

Pez dispenser in the shape of Superman

a pin that says "Imagine Peace"

a list of my allergies and emergency numbers 

a few pages pulled out of an Ellen DeGeneres paperback that are so funny that I just re-read them every few years

no less than 25 pens and pencils

my huge schedule book that I hand make because who pays $24 for a blank book with dates in it — that I can make myself

a peanut butter sandwich

a smiley face sticker

a "fortune" from lunch at a Chinese restaurant

car wash tickets

Bahamas ASPCA membership card

ticket stub for the movie American Hustle

bank deposit slip, health insurance card and prescription card, discount cards, reward cards, business cards, appointment cards, car license and registration cards

the earrings I meant to put on when I was walking out the door

old food stamp, from when they were still made from paper

coral colored lipstick that isn't mine

an egg-shaped piece of Tiger's eye, a large piece of hematite, two pieces of fluorite

tarot cards

a small clutch-sized purse that holds earplugs, a phone charger, two kinds of Tic Tacs, Handiwipes, two packets of raspberry flavored EmergenC, and assorted bits of paper

old, very old, could-hurt-you-if-I-hit-you-with-them energy bars: two of them, both half eaten

just the envelopes of letters I've read

sunglasses, two plastic spoons, napkins, Advil large size full bottle

a totally empty purse

cell phone

two Costa Rica tour books —  600 pages,and 336 pages

one unneeded rain jacket, two unneeded long sleeve shirts that don't fit in my suitcase, one sun protection shirt that I need everyday

one tiny tube of toothpaste, one tube of arnica cream

one old bus ticket to San Jose from Turrialba, one bus schedule brochure, an extra pair of glasses, camera, baseball cap, one granola bar

street maps of San Jose and Cartago, five tourist maps, two Spanish dictionaries

"worry stone" from Arizona

folding money (about $25)

receipts from the Post Office, Staples, Wegmans, and Home Depot

a half dollar money clip holding two tens, three fives, and six ones

my favorite Fisher Space Pen that can write upside down or when you're in outer space and there's no gravity

my father's well-used, mother-of-pearl, two blade, small pocket knife

a toothpick holder I've carried around for thirty years

one New York Times crossword puzzle, always carefully folded up next to a neatly folded bandana in my back pocket

chunks of rock salt in my pants cuffs from the giant dump truck that sped by me as it spewed salt onto the icy Home Depot parking lot

a book of essays by Anne Fadiman, titled Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader

chocolate chip Clif Bar

a button that fell off something but I can't figure out what it was

neon yellow highlighter, pencil shavings, some half-finished jewelry, a gross & lonely throat lozenge

three peanuts, a red kidney bean, a half-eaten caramel, four squash seeds, popcorn, four dried leaves, six very small pebbles, three twigs, a feather

a cheddar cheese penguin cracker

lots of what looked at first like chocolate sprinkles but on closer observation was clearly mouse poop 

a buckeye, because I'm from the Buckeye State

a neatly pressed white handkerchief, seven cents, one green comb, three bobby pins,

a set of not-often-used keys with church key, because I just never know when I’ll need one, or for what

metallic gold eyeglass case holding two ballpoint pens, my “25 years at Cornell” gold-tone pen, and a neatly pressed blue handkerchief

a pathetically insubstantial amount of folding cash

multiple business cards for my multiple business lives: real estate agent; obituarist; writer on food, wine, farms, people; auctioneer

rumpled red linen handkerchief with hand-embroidered red edging, which really should go into the laundry

bank passbook, Swiss Army knife, pistol permit

visitor's sticker to the National Gallery in Ottawa, the paper from a tea bag, foreign candy, two blank notecards

linoleum block from art class, music pass for lessons, shrinky dink paper from art class, headband for gym class, rubber bracelet from health class, audition paper for the play from last fall 

notebooks for Spanish class, science class, English class; orange binder for math class; big binder with folders for all classes, in order of those classes; The Great Gatsby in the main pocket of my schoolbag

3 triple A batteries 

bag of dried up mangoes  

eye drops

rolls of Mentos candies

credit cards that I never activated, business cards from people I don’t remember, check books from banks I no longer have accounts with, keys that don’t fit any locks that I can find

guitar picks

a pot holder made by Alison Lurie

to-do list from January 

empty bread bag, empty Dunkin' Donuts bag, paper towel, plastic knife, orange peel to compost

poetry book by Melissa Tuckey and a book by Pema Chodron

2 pairs of white socks

"10 Things" list from Zee

results of blood work test

4 receipts from the public library

partial list of song titles for future radio show

traveler's amulet

small, smooth amethyst

silver dollar

contact lens case, nail clippers, coconut banana granola bar

rolling papers (because you never know)

one tiny notebook with a single haiku written in it

four hair bands for keeping hair out of my face

three empty gum wrappers because I chewed some gum and didn't know where else to put the wrappers

a pair of soft forceps for picking up insects at work

one  Sacagawea dollar coin I got in December in Ecuador, where they are pleasingly common

an article titled "Slightly Depressed Women Live Longer"

a little owl

a sea shell

swatches of fabric and a piece of yarn

band aids, Chapstick, dental floss, denture cream, cortisone cream

my very favorite small, bright yellow Moleskine notebook with its elastic strap to keep the ideas from spilling out — annotated with lists, drawings, phone numbers and indecipherable scrawls — there is a small back pocket that holds "mad money"
lip gloss, rose pink, pearly
a small, flat, red metal credit card case, embossed with "The Metropolitan Museum of Art" — a repurposed address book, fastened with a wooden hors d'oeuvre pick ever since I lost the tiny silver pen
one rust and brown batik mini purse, holding my precious library card, the not-so-precious but useful AAA membership card, Ithaca Bakery's bread card, and quarters for parking meters
one indigo blue gel pen, one baby blue stylus, one Caribbean blue metal tube-case for reading glasses, all in a row
one check book, bedraggled, it's never had a cover
just in case: Lactaid, gas-relief tablets, Pepto Bismol tablets

3 pencils and an eraser, tape measure, hearing aid batteries

butane lighter, for un-freezing locks

some old phone numbers written on paper

3 different types of teacher/tutor I.D., each with its own strap

too much plastic 

reminder about things I remember, not those I forget

coffee shop card: buy 9, get 1 free

crochet hook, 2 lightweight tote bags that folds into themselves, a 2013 calendar I can't throw out yet

a small round mirror so I can check to see if I have food stuck between my teeth

one black beret and one purple beret, because as my mood changes my color choices also change

good luck charm given to me by a good friend — special beads knotted onto a piece of thread

a ring that's too loose for my finger now but I want to have it with me in case it suddenly fits

latest issue of Shambala Sun magazine

just air


Thank you to all the wonderful people who contributed to this list:

Alan Heath
Alice Damp
Amy E. Bartell
Antonia Matthew
Barbara Force
Cady Fontana
Carol K. Kammen
Chaya Spector
Chris Fontana
Diana Kreutzer
Dianne Elaine Ferriss
Edna S. Brown
Gabrielle Vehar
JP
Jackie Andrews
Janet Klock
Joyce Frank
Judy Cogan
June Wolfman
Kathleen Morrow
Kay Bradford
Laura LaRosa
Linda Keeler
Lynn Johnson
Martha Blue Waters
Melissa Hamilton
Mira Vanek-Johnson
Nancy Lee Koschmann
Patty Little
Peggy Adams
Peggy Haine
Phoebe Shalloway
Prachi Ruina
Randy Ehrenberg
Ray Edwin
Richie Holtz
Rob Sullivan
Roxanne VanWormer
Sara Robbins
Saskya van Nouhuys
Sharon K. Yntema
Shirley Elliott
Sue Norvell
Sue Perlgut
Valorie Rockney
Xin Li
Zee Zahava