marks of silence

Often words are responsible for creating distance. Distance that is not there when I am sharing space with an individual. I can be in the quiet company of a stranger and feel like we are connected even if we don't speak. The moment a word is uttered, the stillness of silence is ruptured and the meaning of our existence together becomes limited to what we might say to each other.

I am starting a new project in which I will mark silence with these words:

"Our silence is."

I am unsure of how to execute the distribution and construction of this work. It must find its way out into the world. I am unsure of what way. I am tempted to write these words on index cards and to slip them secretly into people's belongings when they are not looking. Or to hide them in newspapers and in between books, and in bathroom stalls and on the wall and in the woods and with the snow and in varying other ways that may or may not be noticeable.

I am also tempted to hand these note cards to strangers who I do end up sharing some silence with as a gesture of our time spent together. In this rendition of this, I will sign and date this time for them.

Perhaps I shall do both.