Thunderous Silence (part 2)

Start with a premise: Your Mind is everything there is.

Or to try it another way: Your Mind is the emptiness, the blank space, within which everything exists, or at least within which everything you experience exists. [Not in the sense that “things happen and your brain processes chemicals which recreate things hologramically in the three pounds of tasty bits inside your skull”, but rather in the “entirety of existence happens within” something that essentially is-not.]

Without getting into the bit where “Your Mind” isn’t even yours but just is “Mind,” pursue this premise to its logical conclusion: which is that everything that you think is “You” and “Yours” and everything else - everything that is “Not You” and “Not Yours” - become one totality. “Mind” is the parentheses that surround every event.

Or, to put it another way, the table is the stage that the Play takes place on, and also represents the space within which the Drama takes place. All the objects on the table are the Actors in the Play, and represent everything that happens within the space within which everything happens.

Having got this far, lose the premise because premises make for pedantic art. Instead, try to make a Drama that is as sincere as possible given the level of craft that the actors posses (this is table-top community theater after all…). Along the way notice how many subtle autobiographical details work themselves into the narrative (if there is such a thing in this world) and try to hide them as best you can because while all art is essentially biographical, it is the universal emerging from the particular that makes for transcendent work.

Repeat as necessary until Curtain Call.