Toru Takemitsu (1930-1996) was the best-known Japanese composer of his generation, bringing aspects of Eastern and Western traditions together, yet he remained something of an elusive figure. The composer's own commentaries about his music, poetic and philosophical in tone, have tended to deepen the mystery and much writing on Takemitsu to date has adopted a similar attitude, leaving many questions about his compositional methods unanswered. This book is the first complete study of the composer's work to appear in English. It is also the first book in this language to offer an in-depth analysis of his music. Takemitsu's works are increasingly popular with Western audiences and Peter Burt attempts for the first time to shed light on the hitherto rather secretive world of his working methods, as well as place him in context as heir to the rich tradition of Japanese composition in the twentieth century.

This collection of photos is a brief tour of a few dwellings in Arizona. They are all reachable in a single day from Phoenix, yet somehow the ease of our travel makes us deaf to the sheer magnitude of these accomplishments. I can never pass another wall of stones and not hear the sounds of construction. It will be a joy to hear the shouts of El Giza, the singing of Machupicchu, the cadence of the Great Wall of China, and the whispers of Easter Island. Archaeologists have facts and figures gleaned from rubble, yet I imagine the past as if yesterday; juniper fires baking chapatis, barking dogs, and joyful shouts of children playing the game of wall building where small pieces are critical in the balance of the whole. There is so much to see and hear past the silence.

In 1974, I realized I was an actor in my own life; I showed up every day, however, I did not write the words, produce, set the stage, nor direct my actions. The emptiness inside me became unbearable. I had to stop the course of my life. I had to let go and trust an unknown process. I knew there was something I did not know, which would change everything in my life. I learned the journey never ends, and my life has become one grand and glorious adventure. When I started writing, there was no thought of filling 30 journals, let alone thousands of pages in the computer. Writing has been more than just therapy, more than a tool of self discovery, and more than a reflection of a crooked path. Writing has become a way to express, share, and give back some of the many blessings graciously given to me while I was busy pursuing dreams. I am still humbled and amazed with how words show up, whether forming on a page or a screen. I am a reluctant writer, yet compelled to find the words missing from my speaking. I imagine what I wished I had said, after the opportunity has passed, and writing gives me the chance to edit, refine, and make real the abstractions in my heart. I remember conversations as images drawn within, and in the attempt to share this dialogue, I let words form freely when writing. I always read aloud, to hear the sounds reverberate in the room. It is then words become real.