Even in silence, I cannot stop my mind from wondering. Silence is supposed to be a void, an emptiness, but I guess we all know that a silence can be more meaningful than all that precedes or follows it. Silence also comes with an inherent meditative, trancelike, hypnotic quality. I can easily answer the question what are you thinking of? when it is dropped in the middle of conversation; or while residing in a noisy room. But when it breaks out of a soundless place, it seems that there is a wall between the pre- and post-question moments. It is like waking up. Perhaps silence is ultimately hypnagogic.
Jessica Bailiff's music has this quality. It is ethereal, but not just from a musical point of view. As an album, as a coherent piece, it is elusive and intangible. I can never recall what the album cover looks like, or the names of the track titles, and I can never recall the music. Once it's gone it's gone. David Berman once wrote that "a stranger begins wherever I see him". This is like that, for me.
It might just be me. There are plenty of people who can narrate their dreams beautifully, up to the tiniest details. I am not of them (unfortunately). Perhaps these people can at some time tell me what this sounds like. In truth, though, I am not sure I want to know. I suppose I could make notes while-listening, but I am afraid that will break the spell.
All I know is I like it, and I'll keep it that way. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss, even in silence.
