Underneath the pavilion, everybody is engrossed in what lies on the table. So many things to do. So many places to go, people to love and hate, things to own and dispose of, power to gain and lose, hearts to break and salvage, nature to enjoy, ignore or exploit. And you, too, are there, eyes bulging, tongue flapping in the demand to speak, mouth shut to be silent. You and those around you move the pieces around on the table, either together in groups, or against each other in groups. Until one day your head pops up from the table, and you are not playing the game. You are just there while all around you people continue to play like gamblers at a craps table.
You are under a pavilion. All four sides of the pavilion are open. You look around. Outside the pavilion there seems to be nothing there, yet you slowly move to the very edge and look out. Nothing there. You step outside and forget everything at the table. You come back in and resume your game playing, but it is just not the same. You step outside the pavilion again but this time you feel something there. You look back into the pavilion and see everything as it has always been. Everything is the same: time and space dividing everything into the urgency of staying alive. What to do? Where to go? Quo Vadis?
You are under a pavilion. All four sides of the pavilion are open. You look around. Outside the pavilion there seems to be nothing there, yet you slowly move to the very edge and look out. Nothing there. You step outside and forget everything at the table. You come back in and resume your game playing, but it is just not the same. You step outside the pavilion again but this time you feel something there. You look back into the pavilion and see everything as it has always been. Everything is the same: time and space dividing everything into the urgency of staying alive. What to do? Where to go? Quo Vadis?
