Recently finished ~

Into the Soft Arms of Silence

oil on canvas, 24"x18"

In keeping with the theme, I will share a poem by Thomas Hood, which I first became acquainted with through its presence in one of my favorite films, Jane Champion's The Piano.

Silence
by Thomas Hood

There is a silence where hath been no sound,

There is a silence where no sound may be,

In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea,

Or in wide desert where no life is found,

Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;

No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,

But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,

That never spoke, over the idle ground:

But in green ruins, in the desolate walls

Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,

Though the dun fox or wild hyæna calls,

And owls, that flit continually between,

Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan—

There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.