“Out of faint drone rumblings, an organ slowly ascends. The night is awash with a hospitable solemnity that the listener must traverse alone. “Acoustic Tales”, by Field Rotation, provides the soundtrack to stormy nights, unsettling at first, but compelling the listener to embark on an introspective excursion.” “Throughout the eleven tales, there are subtle strokes...
The elliptical mouth of silence - some stratagem to recount our errant memory. It’s reticent, iridescent, covered in dreams. It’s distant as violence, fearful as my mouth pronouncing your name. You know the cost of arrogance: a lexicon to describe our blissful irony. Dark rain in darker sky! How to repress our plenitude of light? How to amplify convexity and make it infinite? How to...
“Daughter, the highest and the deepest are of the same provenance; they’re born of the same mother. Angels inhere in the existence of flesh and it is by flesh that the spirit rejoices. Only in a furious encounter of equidistant bodies does the divine take form and god, the same one whom you trace on your window in crayon, becomes momentarily eternal.” [poetry for ‘Acoustic...
There is a kind of body that’s lacerated beneath the wind, with a bell’s infantile friction, with the night’s sinister noctilucence, with the unfathomable agony of the word isthmus. There is a body converging into myriads of voices: proximate to silence, a throbbing key. [poetry for ‘Acoustic Tales’ written by Estela Lamat]