Sunday, December 2, 2012

Zen and the Art of John Cage (1)

I’ve written John Cage. Now I have to write Zen.

A writing on Zen is not a writing about Zen.

A writing on Zen is not a writing on Zen.

To write Zen comes closer to what writing Zen is.

It is writing to feel the pen as it contacts the paper.

It is writing to hear the sound of putting pen to paper.

It is writing to feel the paper in contact with the pen.

Making the letters carefully, I see these marks as beautiful in themselves, as if the words they form are incidental.

It is hearing the sounds both in- and outside my house.

It is feeling my legs as they are curled up on the loveseat, the tension in my right thumb and index finger as I hold the pen, the tension in my left hand as I hold the notebook open.

It is relaxing my right hand but writing legibly.

It is taking time to write by hand.

[And if it’s here, it is taking more time to type it.] 

It is writing, going on without stopping, so that the process is like breathing (or walking).

Once I write Zen, does Cage become Zen and Zen become Cage? And then do they become themselves again?

How do I edit something like this? Does it ever become part of my book, or is it simply an experience I have in order to write my book?

When I write a book, I am always writing about myself.

Therefore, I am Zen and Zen is I.

Read every day; write every day.

Enjoy the silence.