On a cold autumn day in 1978, I sat for a moment on a bench.
The bench was beside a quiet pond in London’s Hyde Park. The weather was very nice.
although I could feel the coldness of the bench.
The silence in this environment was like stopping time.
Above, a lone bird was moving from side to side. Its wings were silent and it had no desire to disturb the peace around it.
I sat there, facing this lonely painting. I thought to myself
The silent gliding of that bird. It was a mirror of myself. I thought to myself.
The silence around me at those moments played a silent symphony in the very fabric of my being.