Such is the rhetoric of paradise. A longing that cannot be uttered.
The natural tendency of all things is to cease to exist. Here, I have tried to carve another
out of acres of disorder and silence.
To resist the world is to admit that there is an unbreaking
absence at the heart of life. Here, I have tried to find a way to
surround it, to put a roof over it. To extend the eaves in a line
that mirrors the earth’s own horizon, that brings some sense of
scale to the infinite. I could fill each room with furniture, could
patch together the wires that might signal in on a suspended
flat-screen monitor the events of some remote adventure, have
the electrician number the artificial lumens that flood each
surface, but it is the absence that you would recognize first, and
you would know it by many names.
It is difficult to locate God.
we have not yet gone far enough.
God does exist, but is confined elsewhere.
we lack the requisite apparatus for detecting Him.
I am talking about building a place in which God is present.
I am talking about aligning earthly materials.
I am talking about God’s appearance in this space.
I am talking about the reason for song.
I am talking about trying to predict through which openings God enters.
I am talking about through which openings we return to him.
I am asking, in how many temples can God exist at once?
God’s money wants impossible things. God’s money wants to
turn a swamp into a town, to stave off the onslaught of Florida:
the humidity and moisture and plants and animals that do not
relent, whose only purpose is an unholy devouring.
The water is especially difficult. One must structure the ground
to be able to hold a building. There are many possibilities—
filling the ground with sand, making raft foundations or driving
piles deep into the earth.
I suppose there are reasons that Eden never had any buildings.
Once Adam and Eve realized in their nakedness that they
needed to be protected, they were driven out. They sought the
sanctuary of concrete and a cacophony of water-impervious
They shivered, though it was warm.