noise

in the heart of summer in the outer suburbs of a city, the sounds of music struggling for dominance, glasses, plates and cutlery.clinking, the smells of charcoal barbecues as conflicting languages reverberate through the night. In this house the noise of the dining room and the kitchen passing through the open windows into space. These voices, talking about the local politics, complaining about the party of the upper classes, the sounds mingling with the noise of the breeze moving the slender trees. We are entranced by this, perhaps we would explore some of the sites, except there is too much and we cannot possibly find the particular points of origin. We walk with him along the road in A to the station, S and R speaking, its the noise which is full of information. Our speech has lost all content, its a cloud. A dull dark object like all clouds at night, does it have mas and content? Or is it more fleeting than we can imagine. The gentle breeze grows stronger as we leave him at the station, still its insubstantial and yet as we walk back towards the Dutch house where Spinoza once lived, grinding lenses and singing local blues, still there is the gentle flare of car lights which reflect off the front of the house like the swish of her summer dress as we dance. We don’t get home immediately instead we stand outside the Sycamore and discuss going inside for a dessert and perhaps a drink of some kind. Standing there, pausing before entering, pausing before thinking, and the noise of the people sitting outside. We go in and sit in the corner and after talking about how sad the inability to take to R seriously is these days. What happened to him? L asks. After a glass of dessert wine we switch to drinking pale green chinese tea. And then begin to make origami Roc birds which we launch towards the big communal table which divides the dining room. It swoops down, runs into the gust of hot air from the desert outside and climbs towards the ceiling lights, the Roc may turn and escape into the street or turn round and fly back to safely land at our feet or on our low table; we cannot travel with it so far. Looking out through the doorways we know they cannot go so far. But the window into the square makes a few people lean our of the balcony towards the desert.Over there we can see thunder and lightening, we should go she says before that arrives Lightening cascades, Perhaps this is the indicator, as we leave the restaurant that their is the most beautiful woman at the… and then simply the density of the people between Regents Park and Groß-Hansdorf and St.- Pauls and Pauli Landungsbrücken only not like empty areas and the distribution of objects in motion is patterned this what what one sees again and again at the same place one recognizes faster because the noise is so great that it is so final stops of the subway have driven off he said I have driven off final stops of the subway and the transition from one existence to another is showing the of the transition from one existence to another is… Make tea, I’d like to watch…. It’s noise, she says, simply noise…