1. |
beneath brambles
00:15
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to leave
the straight lines
of personality
and deviate
into those footpaths
that lead . . .
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2. |
Averill, Averil
03:09
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3. |
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4. |
Hope, detour. Too late
06:56
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5. |
Retreat (of mind)
03:00
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6. |
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7. |
Retreat (of body)
03:00
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. . . and soon it becomes apparent that this person is ourselves. For if we could stand there where we stood six months ago, should we not be again as we were then—calm, aloof, content? Let us try then. But the river is rougher and greyer than we remembered . . . The sights we see and the sounds we hear now have none of the quality of the past; nor have we any share in the serenity of the person who, six months ago, stood precisely were we stand now. His is the happiness of death; ours the insecurity of life. He has no future; the future is even now invading our peace.
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Salman Bakht Atlanta, Georgia
Improvisation, soundscape composition, experimental computer music. Cryptic and Machiavellian.
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