Descending, sinking slowly and consciously into silence, struggling to stay open, drowning unfortunate echoes that come up immediately when we try to silence them, trying to make of oneself a huge sensible silence in waiting, expanding to the limits, to the peak where the faraway connection is seen flickering. Silence underlies the noise and the […]

Identity and continuity which we conceive as our core self, become a problem maintaining the coherence and continuity of the stories that we narrate about ourselves – or at least the problem of constructing narratives that give a meaning to our lack of coherence in relation to ourselves and the chaos of life.

An elephant made out of cardboard boxes, life-sized, behind it real elephant dung, with a little golden Buddha on top. The audience was not amused. Christian replied, better having the Buddha on top than underneath the shit.