The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


(later this week) evidence from the large scanner

point-cloud into abject objects of desire, smeared pixels
and the conjuration of the true real organism

http://www.alansondheim.org/azureleg1.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azureleg2.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azureleg3.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azureleg4.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azureleg5.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azurelega.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azurelegb.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/azurelegc.jpg

(earlier this week) evidence from the large scanner:

Azure Carter film noir templates for continuance of research
into the obscenity of the night

http://www.alansondheim.org/azuren1.gif
http://www.alansondheim.org/azuren2.gif
http://www.alansondheim.org/azuren12.gif
http://www.alansondheim.org/azuren21.gif
http://www.alansondheim.org/azuren32.gif
http://www.alansondheim.org/azuresit.gif


(David Askevold would have liked this; in a way the translucency of the digital 
and pristine quality of the analogic, that sort of thing, would have resonated. 
I remember the two of us scuttling down a barren coastal cliff, jagged rocks 
all the way, in the middle of a pitch-dark and stormy Nova Scotia winter night. 
We were recording a foghorn and its echoes, holding on for dear life. I can see 
the scanner images through an uncanny the memory of these soundings, which are 
with me here in West Virginia, a 35-year-old tape. I'd dedicate these works to 
him if that weren't such an absurd, meaningless gesture, especially in the face 
and body of death.)

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