Perhaps i should end this folly here and get back to Being silent for have i Nõt done enough thinking of Nõ thing?
but before i close i will notate a few more thoughts.
On the way to writing this essay about Yeats and Nõ
i fell in love with the Rose and the Railway,
and then i fell in love with Nõ thing.
In researching Yeats and the Nõ, i underwent an experience with Language and Philosophy.
As i rode around in mythopoeic circles on Nõ Trains i met Kukai guys on Nõ bridges
whose brushes would fly as they said the most Kukiest things and others said at least the Sileus things i ever heard.
T/here i got lost and fell in love with Language and Philosophy and the potential Becoming therein.
T/here i found Nõ answer but silent echoes in an endless space with Nõ beginning and Nõ ending.
T/here i found stages and horizons and computer monitors opening into and outwards towards space like infinite Railway Lines
going on forever with the wisdom of beloved Roses blooming and fading and blooming again each year like Forsythia by the sea in spring.
Sounds of work, people and machines, voices and wheels, paper and pen ...
working, building, constructing, deconstructing, decomposing, composing with the sounds of birds and Roses.
Neitzsche worked on writing a book Thus spoke Zarathustra: A Book for Everyone and No one and then he fell into Nõ thing.
It is sound time that i set myself free into the silence with Yeats and Heidegger et al.
along with, "Nietzche's thought free into the freedom of it's own essential substance--
and so leave it at that place where it by its nature belongs" (Heidgger WCT,52).
i can go Nõ further only to (dis)cover, find and lose again what we may already know.
Does the essence of the Rose (Being) call us to love or does love call us to love? Does thinking or inspiration call us to love?
To be a Rose one is essentially Being. To be Human one is essentially Being and Thinking and Loving.