top of page

Stat

There is always the wind as interest in spiders and silk worms hold down this dirigible of a dream.

I track the swell of a release and its tributaries in pre-fab formats promising the ocean up front.

The semi-permanence of prompt pomp washes out. Impermanence looks out from within as eternity begs for a scrap of belief in it. You do not have to be unaffected to be consistent. You do not have to be sensational to create movement.


This album took a long time to make. It may just take a long time to reach people. I am certain that I built it as well as I possibly could. That I cared for the aspects of it that I was aware of. This process settles in contrasting spins creating an impression. A ray of light cracks across the structure revealing shadows that will eventually decompose.


I prefer dilated listening spaces. The ether I'm designed to pull from cannot come through my channel if I have to fight to bring it down. I learn to create shields of sound with those that nourish the ground. I hold it down. Walking up stream at night, breaking web after web to get through, all that blood about to be had, lost to a cause. It better be worth it. But you just don't know, you just have that faith until you experience the tipping point. Then you have that knowing and nothing is ever the same after that. You have secured something and all those little meals that were skipped, all that struggle, has value in place of an unknown. I guess that's why we make promises.


At the helm of deliverance, we have an experience, it isn't easy but it sure is real. I measure it more accurately now. As one tree grows proportionally more aware of the element of fire, it takes a magnitude of focus to see the forest. I read the energy of the room. The buzz. The draw. The collective palpability of the context of the vehicle that is being received.

Being received.

Being received.











53 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Recoil

bottom of page