Cocooning in the Comfort of the Known
Everything remains in strange stasis. I am drowning in the listening of music, but have lost interest in seeing the performance of it, as well as any interest in my own live manipulation of it. The last few years have been an interesting foray into more droning, ambient soundscapes. The sound of wind being clutched and stretched and scraped across the earth's surface; a chorus of haunting cherubs whispering faint discordance behind cloud cover; the earth's molten skeleton hardening and grinding against itself, slowly toppling continents above. I'm currently enjoying an album called "The Great Blizzard," which is a great title for it. Weirdly, I don't recall the album that was my first introduction into the genre, but I do remember the radio program Hearts in Space, which played a lot of this stuff. Nocturnal Transmissions was another show on local radio that I'd fall asleep to back in the mid-90s. I think I like the expanse of it. Like turning time int