Teshima Art Museum

There is no art in it in the usual sense. Just a shell, the wind, and tiny beads of water that rise from the floor and travel toward each other until they join. People sit for an hour and don't talk. I sat for two. I have never felt so clearly that a building was thinking about me.

On the ferry back I wrote one line in my phone: make things that make people quiet.

“Make things that make people quiet.”