I peruse the book Fields of Plenty by Michael Ableman, and read these words by Gene Thiel, who has a cultural and family history of potatoes, and grows them near Joseph, Oregon. "The strongest memories of the land probably come from our youth. They're indelible in your mind. If you've worked with potatoes as much as I have, you find out that when they're thrown into burlap sacks, every one has a distinct sound. And you get so indelibly impressed with it that it becomes a form of music. You're tuned to nature, all the vibrations. It's really rewarding to know that you can feel those resonances, that you can totally immerse in them."
He can feel a potato under the soil. He says, "You develop potato hands. You can sense a potato in the soil."
I read an article in the New Yorker on the pervasiveness of Musak. Musak is "in the realm of retail theatre." The article ends with these words. "Our biggest competitor," a member of Muzak's marketing department told me, "is silence."
The reins of commerce unleash.
Peace taps an inner beat.
Pulse red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, and white.
Hold the strings and light a vibrational feast to life.