your naming: "The real content of a name is its empty part, what the name fails to include. No matter how small the exclusion, what is excluded moves quietly from its place of exile to the center and enters the definition as its essence. So with stranger. For the Greeks, the hollow in the name stranger left room for the more than human, for unlimited power and its consequences. For us, the empty and the undefined are the aperture of the infinite." D. Weiss, "Refusing to Name the Animals." Gettysburg Review. Winter 1990. pp.233-34.

Like Adam: "it is my intent to speak against the Adamic pedigree, against naming, and, with regret, against the belief that one can reach beyond the cultural and speak with the voice of nature, That voice, like the habitat of the zoo, is no less of a cultural enclosure." Ibid.

"as soon as I begin to be aware of the life of any creature, I at once forget its name." H.D. Thoreau. B. Torrey and F.H. Allen, editors, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau. Boston, MA., 1906. Vol. XIII, p.155.

exist in relation: "Understanding the world as a field is very different from understanding the world as dialectic of solid and void. The world of objects and emptinesses is innumerable, a world of local binary decisions: is/is not. In a world of fields, the distinction between what is and what is not is one of degree. There can be as many sampling points where something is not as there are where something is....An object’s boundary is simply the reconstructed contour of an arbitrarily chosen value." M. Novak, “Transmitting Architecture: The Transphysical City.” C-Theory, Vol 19, No.1-2, 1995.

Arnold: (Yes.) You see, most people think like physicists. They believe that unpredictable occurrences are just coincidence or chance. But psychologists and spiritually oriented people realize that the unpredictable, the event that only happens once, is itself very meaningful. For example, a woman I once worked with had a very sharp pain in her right breast. She was living in Los Angeles at the time, and she discovered later that exactly at the moment she had that pain, her sister in New York died of breast cancer. She herself eventually developed cancer in that breast. So one-time occurrences can be very important.

Stephan: What you're proposing has correspondences with Eastern philosophy. For example, the I Ching is very much concerned with one-time occurrences that happen simultaneously. The idea is that there's a field of meaning and that things that happen at the same moment are somehow related in a meaningful way.

"Field of Dreams: An Interview with Arnold Mindell by Stephan Bodian." Yoga Journal. March/April 1990.

a picture: A. Purdy. From, "Lament for the Dorsets."

the main technique: M. Lorbianchet, Director, National Center of Scientific Research. Paris, France. "As with (Georges) Bataille's description of Lascaux 'at the edge of the industrial world, several hours from Paris,' the assertion of difference ('it's extreme contrast') is relative rather than absolute. This also means that the difference between the animal and the human can be understood spatially in terms of proximity. It is in the proximate relations to living things ‘to the animal as animal and yet other than human’ that the human emerges as human." S. Ungar, "Phantom Lascaux: Origin of the Work of Art." Yale French Studies #78, 1990.

zoos: "consider the logic underlying the exhibition of captive animals in zoos. Keepers remind spectators that many of the animals in a display cannot survive in their native environments, which have been desecrated; thus zoos are supposed to testify to our society's benevolent concern for these animals taken into protective custody in a small, artificial compound far from their natural habitat and profoundly restrictive of their normal instinctual behavior. How exactly did the animals' habitats get destroyed?" R. Malamud, Poetic Animals and Animal Souls. New York, 2003. p.5.

hunting: "Today I will show you what a hunter would feel, we will venture through forests and gullies hunting our prey. Not any usual prey, today we are hunting the elusive Big Foot. It is dark out, but stars glisten in the black oblivion of space. The eerie moon is seen through the towering trees. A light fog has swept over the land, leaving a thick carpet of misty air. Nothing can be seen beyond fifteen feet around, the only way to pull back the veil of mist is to venture deeper into the land. Now we will begin the hunt." G.H. Brandon, "Bigfoot Hunting." Elfwood Jan 20, 2003. http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/libr/g/h/ghbrandon/monster_tale.html.html.

Sasquatch growls: "He stands with the great lions at San Francisco's Fleishaker Zoo, those indoor cages I remember from childhood trips across the bay, lions surely long dead three decades later. He reads to them in beast language. 'When a man does not admit that he is an animal. Ghrooooh!" They stir, and are roused. Years after, he watches a snow leopardess. "She puts her face within an inch of the wire and SPEAKS to me. . . . I am surrounded by the physicality of her speech. It is a real thing in the air. It absorbs me and I can feel and see nothing else. Her face and features disappear, becoming one entity with her speech. The speech is the purest, most perfect music I have ever heard, and I know that I am touched by the divine, on my cheeks, and on my brow, and on the typanums of my ears, and the vibrations on my chest, and on the inner organs of perception. It is music-speech. . . . We see, hear, feel through the veil. WE are translated'" M. McClure. From, "A Mammal Gallery." Quoted in, L. Bartlett, The Sun Is But A Morning Star; Studies in West Coast Poetry and Poetics. Albuquerque, NM., 1989.

if there is any substitute: J. Brodsky, "Nadezhda Mandelstam (1899-1980)." New York Review of Books, Mar 5, 1981. Writing of how Nadezhda Mandelstam memorized the poems of her husband, Osip, when Stalin had him carted off to a prison camp in Siberia, where he died, so that if the manuscripts were found the poems would be preserved, Joseph Brodsky contends that memory is a substitute for love. For me, it is silence.