I am waiting for you last summer (Anna Trubnikova)




Since ancient times the humanity has been wondering how the world we live in looks, operates and how big it actually is. Does it have boundaries? Today the population of Earth is developing steadily, opening up new horizons and discovering the unknown. Every mystery solved and every enigma revealed provide us with a variety of new possibilities, paths as well as the new questions that we do not yet have answers to. 

The most interesting and exciting topics for us out of range of numerous mysteries of the Universe are the ones that we can’t explore and study by means of modern technology. Have you ever thought, for example,  where the edge of our Universe could possibly be? 

I guess the size of the Universe and the its scale, its infinity or limitedness are the things hard for us to imagine while keeping eyes open. We know for sure how a palm tree looks or for instance an eagle. Even though some of us may have never seen those in person, we can still see them clearly using the images received from different sources and of course our imagination. 

When listening to this melody I usually think of the scale our Universe lies in, and the only limitation to it is my imagination. It is no doubt mathematical studies and research do exist, and even those not dealing with the related fields directly keep learning more about the scientific view of space. We’ve got a lot of popular films to see on that topic. It is helping and in the meanwhile preventing us from developing our own thought, shaping it into one universal image. 

That might be because the human brain gets used to perceiving and visualizing things and sizes it can see. Regarding the size of our Universe – I imagine it as the information that has ever been put into print in shape of texts, books, speeches, conversations, films... There’s more adding up to it every second, and it never stops, it never ends. The amount of books, films and sources that provide us with any kind of information and that amount one can go through in terms of a human life equals in my imagination to what we now know about the world we live in, about our universe. The worlds you discover by reading a new book or watching something, or simply using your imagination are exciting to see, compare and explore further. There are things beyond any stretch of our imagination, understanding and awareness. 

To conclude this reflection on looking for the edge of the Universe we live in, I can only say that the answer to how big it actually is would be: as big as our imagination can fit, and it stretches as far as our brain can lead us. 

There are theories that prove immensity of space based on science and proven facts. However smart those could be, I believe that each one of us is a part of endless Universe somewhere in time and distance, each one of us is a universe. And the only way we can get closer to solving the mysteries of space is starting with smaller things and indulging ourselves in understanding the way they look, work and what more there is to discover about something we have always thought is already clear and bears nothing unknown to it. 

Lorn "Inverted" (Iremsu Kul)

 

In a way reminiscent of the frantic thoughts running loose throughout an untamed mind, the melody echoes in my mind without knowing where it leads. It is the type of uncanny that its uncanniness is caused by its resemblance to something familiar, something innate. The piece's structure reminds me of the flights of ideas in a manic mind, which becomes completely unhinged in the second part of the piece. In addition to uncanniness, the rhythm may even lead to paranoia.

The song’s first part prepares the listener to face the feeling of chaos that takes place in the second part. I imagine the piece having two parts, but the correlation of those two parts makes it impossible for me to treat them as two separate entities. The part referred to as the first component of the piece is the first ninety-five seconds. The second part starts at 01:35 and continues until the song ends. Those two parts may not seem to belong together on the surface, but they blend together correspondingly. Thus, I found it necessary to treat the piece as if it had two heterogeneous components mixed together to achieve what I perceive to be the desired effect of disorientation. I thought the piece sounded like a thriller theme song from the 1980s, which also reinforces the uneasiness I feel while listening to it. Through the music, the mind takes the form of an object that mimics the backs and forths of a tidal flow, creating unpredictable waves of emotion. Multiple layers of sound are presented in the piece, which is a similar experience to standing on the beach barefoot, feeling every grain of sand beneath your feet as you feel your skin burning from the sun, but the coolness of water also comforts you. It feels overwhelming to experience everything at once but also emancipating.

From the beginning, the piece's mood and pace are carefully established as blinking waves of beeping sound accompany what I deem to be sounds of a mechanic heartbeat, or bass some might call. The sound of this heartbeat is weak yet omnipresent throughout the first part. Layering on the heartbeat tune, the twirling tune of predictable yet unnerving waves of sound float around for six seconds before introducing the distorted glitching sound, which sounds similar to a keyboard. This dominant and self-repeating sound becomes a constant element throughout the first part of the piece. Even though at that point, the second and third layers of sound distract the listener from the so-called heartbeat sound, its presence sets the tone of the piece with the help of what I refer to as the second layer; the blinking sounds. The piece's immediately anxiety-inducing beginning creates the effect of a caffeine rush stimulating the brain. As I listen to the song, I can not help but surrender as if I had no authority over my body and mind. The intoxicating movements of sound parallel a vicious cycle of free falls. With each echoing grain of sound, I can feel my consciousness spiraling on the edge of a black abyss incessantly, challenging my concept of time. The loops and layers of sound make me feel like time moves too fast and too slow at the same time. It feels like an eternity while coming to an end too quickly. The undeniable influence of the piece on the perception of time and space is similar to the effect of wistful thoughts one takes immense pleasure torturing themselves with. Such as thinking about the past too much to function.

At the end of the first 25 seconds, another distinct sound is audible and added to the piece until the end of the first part. Compared to the heaviness and denseness of the previously mentioned layers, this one stands out like a whistle in the middle of a murmuring crowd at a bar. As the song progresses, the distortion of noises escalates as the buzzy sound gets as loud as what I call the blinking noise and the whistle. From this point on, the manic mind gets more and more disintegrated. The thoughts (layers of sounds) that once were clear start to overlap and disorient the mind. I envision the distorted sound as a metaphor for the deranged reflections getting louder and louder, maiming the capability of reasoning. The faint noise accompanying the distortion reminds me of a passing breeze since, unlike the other noises, it sounds somewhat static. Its place as a supporting role in the piece's structure enables the piece to paralyze the individual throughout this flight of madness. The first part’s end is signaled as the distorted sound gets more conspicuous, and the faint noise gets bolder and bolder. The foregrounding of the beeping sound (or what I refer to as the second layer) turns it into, which I find similar to, a siren sound. With this transition, I imagine the mind alarming the individual of an impending meltdown. Different layers of sound dissolve into distortion for a quick second before the second part starts.

The best word to define the second part of the song is cathartic. The build-up anxiety and tension from the first part turn into clamor as the sound pattern changes to something even more unsteady, and new sounds are added. The feeling of catharsis is provided by the sharp drum noises, which cut through the heavy atmosphere that was previously created. Yet the change of tone does not warrant content. Below the surface of this sharp break, the distorted sounds can still be heard continuously. This part reminds me of a breakdown because even though the purge of emotion brings relief, the thoughts do not slow down, and it is not a clean break from the first part. I believe the last part shows the evolution of mania, not its end. Overall, the structure of “Inverted” invokes the feeling of self-repeating despair in a mind that is alienated from itself.


Daydream of the Night - Buckethead "Siege Engine" (Fatih Eger)

 



Daydream of the Night

 

Night:

You may call me the mysterious Night

Desperately in need of your delicate daylight

Even for a single touch or an innocent flirt

I would accept the red dawn and gladly be burnt

 

Day:

If my flare blinded you, do not be misled

Do not approach me as if you recently met

How can you convince the chaos to keep up with dignity?

Is it due to ignorance or just your stupidity?

 

Night:

Are you mistaken by the dark side of my moon?

Please remember, I’ll even embrace your doom

My dusk is pure as the traces of a shooting star

Be my eternal companion, like the spark of a firefly

 

Day:

Could you convert terrene into a miracle?

Should I witness the thrive which has become typical?

A new unknown could appear in honor of our mingling

Here’s no place for fear, my soul is slowly surrendering

 

Night:

In my veins, I feel the flow of Jack Daniels

My affection for you is rather miscellaneous

The Drunken Fool will not acknowledge the kiss of death

Until you touch my skin with your sparkling breath

 

Day:

I’ll give you a chance to prove your loyalty

The Day is difficult and full of cruelty

Tenderness lies underneath I’m not heartless

My ray may guide at dawn and heal your darkness


-


There is an interaction between two different moods of guitar playing in the music piece I chose. The first one is calm as the tranquility of the night whereas the other one is much more chaotic and complicated like the daytime. That is why I decided to write a poem about the love of Day and Night in which Night finally seizes a chance and approaches Day. At some point it becomes also clear that these different moods of sounds are combining and creating a harmony. That stands for the surrender of Day to Night after the eternal chasing. Additionally, the title of the poem reflects that this union is never going to happen since the fusion of the day and the night is scientifically impossible. Thus, this union, in a way, is out of this world and obscure for human perception. By doing so, I wanted to highlight the fact that the music piece I chose is an artwork which is extraterrestrial.


Out of the Darkness – DVA "Hap hej" (Isobel Pooley)


Out of the darkness comes an eerie cry

One that we should not like nor it deny.

A choir of plaintive speak of animal tongue

Calling to mind the heinous deeds we’ve done.

 

In the supermarket the lights are bright -

They give no sign of the wretched beasts’ plight.

If you want to close your eyes to it you can,

But listen you, their voices call across the span.

 

Let your mind fly across open meadows,

Hear the plump cow as she munches and lows.

Not worries nor fear in her heart has she -

She gives of her milk and her calf willingly.

 

Not far yonder lives a pig in her sty,

No wish but to wallow and in sun to lie.

Her piglets trot freely at her heavy heel,

Their soft pink skin yet no suff’ring to feel.

 

Haste to the corner in a hungry mood

In search and in need of some savoury food.

Relief you shall find under red and white stripes:

Cheap and in so many different types.

 

Time have you not, for you must run,

Attend to the dates that make up your modern lot.

On tarmac roads your sneakers make not a sound

Head down, headphones on, unaware of anyone around.


At home you eat, a thought not spared,

For those who gave their flesh to sate your appetite.

If perchance a worrisome thought does emerge

Their suffering you do think yourself away.

 

It is but the natural order of things

That mankind control and take the centre stage.

Bending the will of nature to breaking point:

Not the animals but ourselves who are enslaved,

 

Melting eyes with long, quivering lashes,

Ears swivel to the sound of metallic crashes.

Small lungs straining as he for his mother calls:

A short life spent lonely ‘tween comfortless walls.

 

Legs trembling with the weight of unnatural gain,

Skin bald and painful, too long in putrid waste has lain.

Luminous yellow eyes now dulled and blind.

How does it feel, our tasty meal now so to find?

 

Relentless is this farm machine of ours,

Every beat of its heart a thousand lives devours.

Not man nor beast can take a break,

Trapped and unhappy for industry’s sake

 

From the depth of our free and healthy breast

Compassion, let us not with this scene rest!

Far from the path of humanity we have strayed

And with their lives these animals have paid.

 

A warning sound bleats out within the shed,

The air thick with the sounds and smells of dread.


Turkeys’ heads fixed for the executioner’s blow

Come loose and thrashing to and ‘fro.

 

The fear in the still-living animals’ eyes,

The metal chute leading to their demise.

Electric shocks to their faces as they turn,

From birth beyond the point of no return.

 

It must be so, these lives from humans sown

To sate the population, yes, our own.

Is not their wordless pain less than our need?

We who have so many mouths to feed.

 

They do not know their fate ‘til late in their day,

The sun only rising by human decree.

Livelihoods depend on the farmers’ pay:

Human and animal too many to be free.

 

Blood spatters across the wall,

Writing the life story of a nameless soul.

Human and beast debased beyond repair,

Neither one to escape does dare.

 

An insane cycle spins out of control,

Our conscience crying, calling for a change.

Children’s voices chiming with the bleats of animals

As once we this arranged, can we now rearrange.

 

In the dark shed the voices fade to black,

We cannot know how many more will die,

Not only the animals’ but our own dignity do we attack.

The knife clatters down, please let it lie.


The Woods - Isao Tomita "Pictures at an Exhibition: The Gnome" (Helen Gaa)

 



The Woods

Leaves crunching under my feet

What was that? An animal?

There it is again

What is making that noise?

Seems like it’s running from something... is it running from me?

It’s so dark already

I should have started walking sooner

A noise. There. It’s headed this way.

It’s headed in this direction-

Is someone there?

Are those footsteps? I can’t tell.

Something is coming closer now

But what is it?

There – some movement

No – over there

Who is it? Show yourself! This isn’t funny!

There! A figure! Who is it?

It’s moving so strangely

I’m feeling so-

Clammy hands, sweaty brow, queasy, dread.

I- I need to hide

There! Behind that bush! No- too loud... so much noise

Quickly behind this tree

And freeze, clench your jaw, hold your breath, don’t lock your knees

 

It’s following me, this figure

Its looming presence, oozing

All over these woods

Oh, what is it doing?

It’s moving so slowly … is it floating?

Oh no – there – behind this rock

My heart is racing

goosebumps – is it wailing?

What is this thing I’m facing?

It’s like it’s calling out to me

What does it want?

Panting, my head feels foggy

It saw me

Keep moving

No escaping

 

Closer now, closer, almost upon me

It’s here, this figure, this creature

Breath-taking

It’s getting louder and louder

Spindly hands reaching forward

Crawl, crawl, crawl, twigs crawl, pricking crawling, stones crawl

Whirring

Is it – is it glowing?

Can’t hear myself think

My eyes- I can’t see; my ears are ringing

Are they bleeding?

 

Running. Running. Running. Away.


Excitement & Peace (Asena Guenes)

(Sounds of nature.)

Excitement 

Here I am free,

and here I am light. 

Up here in the sky I can be whoever I want to be. No worries to drag me down. I can spread my wings and 

BREATH, and laugh, and SCREAM. I jump from cloud to cloud. I bounce. I change my position, instead of on my feet, I land on my butt, and when I bounce back up, I spread out all my limps, and arch my back, and scream out: „Aoooooouuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!“ I laugh, and I giggle, and let myself fall into this heep of fluffy fullness. I lie here in the clouds, ’cause 

here I am free, 

and here I am light.


Peace 

I feel peace

and I feel calm

and I only feel that here.

I can breath

the fist around my chest, around my heart, lets up.

I can finally breath,

and I can only feel that here.

I feel pain,

I feel pain and it is back again.

I don’t feel painless, I don’t feel peace,

I feel empty.

I wish you were here.

I know, and I absolutely understand why you are not. It was for the best. Nothing better could have happened for and to you, but for me,…. It sucks. I hate it. Our collective, our circle, our network, our family, it is gone… and it crushes me. My heart is squeezed tight, it pains, I cry, It’s gone. Heavy

Although I feel light and weightless, although I float and my feet do not touch the ground, although my curls weightlessly dance around me and are smooth and even, although my body moves back and forth with the gentle drift of the waves, everything feels heavy and oppressive.

I open my eyes, and everything is dark and hazy. I open my mouth and take a deep breath, but instead of clear, refreshing air, only water fills my lungs and everything presses me down, I squirm back and forth and flail my arms around and I thrash. I kick and scream... but no noise comes out.

I am weightless, but I am heavy, .... so heavy, ....

It's as though I were drowning. I close my eyes and I just drift, in this infinite emptiness, in this eternal darkness, in this endless nothingness, and I sink.....


Welcome to Lunar Industries: Claustrophobia (Charlin Benjamin)



01. –at the very first blink of your eye in your mother's womb, chimes surrounded by saltwater lifeblood, the color of love carrying your everyday for months to end.

02. This feeling which embraces you, like the recurring resound of feet tapping keys down the hallway when you are supposed to be asleep but are not quite awake, having been torn out of your dreams.


03. This feeling which embraces you, during your first round of hide and seek, as it dawns on you that the less you seek the more you are exposed to the demons in your wardrobe–


04. This feeling which embraces you, in the icy pool water, as you’re thrown into the unknown, unprepared and now nearly unconscious to register another hold bringing you back to the living.


05. This feeling which embraces you, by every arm ignoring your lack and lack of strength to fight unfamiliar affections attacking your smallest frame unwanted, for far too long–


06. –with wonder as you sit in your father’s car surrounded by the comical colors and alarming noises of the car wash turning your awe into horror with each passing roll and thrum of the brushes.


07. This feeling, this feeling, this feeling which embraces you, it embraces and embraces you, in each space moving from A to B, elevating from main to top, spinning erratically like a giant tea cup, stirring your cells with drumsticks until you see stars casting regret in your heart.


08. This feeling which embraces you, as your pulse aligns with the beat of the ride-cymbal while the marching band blinds your eyes–


09. This feeling which embraces you, when the masses become strange and stranger with every step extending the distance between you and those close to you wherever you are; un-remembering your home address.


10. –with every drop of your heart, pulled apart by violin bows, tossed in octaves from stair to stair, in turns–


11. This feeling which embraces you, when a quietness impends like a giant metronome counting the moments before your demons return–


12. This feeling which embraces you, akin to black rubber tires interrogating your consciousness, bulldozing their profile in between your strongest fears–


13. –as your body lies in a tube, bronzing your skin. And you evaporate–


14. –with the scanning of your marrows and your decisions unpacking their consequences at your doorstep and every premonition dwindles like a wailing violin in your hands.


15. –at last, decomposing your bones, a companion into a perpetual vacuum.

To Zanarkand: On Your Own (Ann-Cathrine Thierolf)



Growing up.


Growing up means learning.


Learning to be on your own.


While others feel like sharing it.


I do not.


Feelings overwhelm you.


You feel lonely.


Because they all seem to find their way.


While being okay.


By being on their own.




It seems like.


You are on your own.


With your feelings.


With your thoughts.


With your hopes.


With your dreams.


With your fears.




Growing up.


Growing up means learning.


Learning to be on your own.




Having no control.


Nobody knows where you go.


Nobody knows what you do.


Nobody knows with whom you go.





Being on your own.


Means learning.


To fight for yourself.


To give things a meaning to it.


To take chances.


To stand up for yourself. For what you want.




Growing up.


Growing up means learning.


Learning to be on your own.




Growing up.


Means being on your own.


It is a choice.


Because you are never on your own.


There are others.


Feeling the same way.


Sharing your feelings.


In the end.


You are on your own.


But - actually - you are not.

Dark Matter (Myriam Lissmann)

 



(click image to zoom)


floating (or: the rather unsuccessful attempt to float mindlessly in the sea to just relax and be but your brain won't shut up or something else intervenes) (Celine Wildermuth)

 



trying to wind down

from all the buzzing noise in the world

 

the wind on top

the water down under

 

floating

 

 

if only for a little while

to shut off and just be

one with nature

one with me

 

remembering what happened yesterday

 

 

no!

drops from crashing waves splash onto my face

interrupting my attempt to detach and connect

 

 

hearing the hollow sounds the ocean carries

feeling the fiery warmth the sun radiates

 

smelling the salt from the ocean breeze

seeing the sun's light through closed eyes

 

floating

 

 

no!

touching something unfamiliar and oddly squishy

hoping it's just a piece of seaweed on the loose

 

 

what if

what is isn't

what can can't

what will won't

 

too many choices to make

too few truly important

 

wondering what will happen tomorrow

 

 

no!

legs and torso are slowly folding

starting to sink

 

 

taking a deep breath in

to keep floating

 

stretching my limbs, making myself big

so that the waves keep carrying me

 

absorbing what is happening in the moment

 

 

trying to wind down

from all the buzzing noise in the world

 

the wind on top

the water down under

 

Although I'm floating

I'm feeling a little more down to earth again