the crawlingest gamelan making stars of tin, or from din, falling and repeating, glistening and fading, in space and around/within it, in rooted atmosphere note, center of all the pull, all energy sourced dynamic through pressure-pointed interval. stereo play of keys and the tiniest fragmented guitar cough in silence breaking repeal. quieting the growing appeal of larger equipment into insect-stirring maddening make-work played (what feels like) kilometres apart.
the ship passes in the slowest of motions, the waves curl and respond from the moving disturbances, activity on the deck but impossibly mute underneath, but stirring. all of the work is producing out of sight, as the natural fluidity shapes what we're seeing and what can be heard. our brains attach song-form to the ripples and their disappearances.
the underlying hum sleep-beautiful in its stoicism, fainting into the background, or the ears hear it that way, as it sits cold-pure but warming up in the center of the thought, retracting with each string-abled decision. electric guitar vocalizing the look of distant rock in spiked graph-like jetting cones, like eyes drawn to the top of the painting before closing on the new tone.
these same guitars ant and putter and are manipulated through the softening hysteria, higher than the horizon's position, seemingly aimless but filled with looping/rotating baoding ball action, dexterous and a hand faster. their speed, though clipped, acting in the interest of the double, to draw attention away from and back to the meditating axis.
long-apart points, an even straighter plane, the equal distances, all ruminating flush.
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