Birth of art —

song of rice planters,

chorus from nowhere.   Basho

If you are utterly silent, then everything that happens in that silence, takes on a new color. It becomes the very birth of art.

‘Song of rice planters’ — it is not much of a music. Poor rice planters, just to keep them engaged, they are singing in chorus. But a man of silence, immediately makes or gives a glamor to the ordinary stones.

‘Song of rice planters, chorus from nowhere.’ As far as he is concerned he is utterly silent, so he wonders from where this chorus is coming. The whole existence has become a chorus, a beautiful symphony. Our lives can be lived as music, as poetry, as art...as mystics. Those are the right ways to live our lives. Right, because to live those styles, you will have to find your origin first.

Hyakujo: The Everest of Zen