The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

April 11, 2009

(The) Only Cosmic Music.

(Please do listen, I am happiest of this of all.)

North Indian tambura digitally descending and ascending.
Perhaps this is the closest one comes to an image-universe.
Artifacts appear and disappear as descent and ascent continues.
For example, audio lissajous towards the end of tambura2.
Of course these are always there.
All music and all sound tends towards this, not towards tambura steady-
Entanglement with observer and apparatus, intrinsic and extrinsic.
What my ears tell me is what is heard.
What my eyes show me is what is seen.
Loop these for perfection.
There are small events among the continuous movement of the fingers.
Mind in the fingers, among them.
For as not to see after and through eye surgery, the hearing.
And trying not to focus and not to focus on trying.
For the Natyasastra says nothing about the drone.
And the drone is present today with sruti box, melodeon, tambura,
electronic software and hardware.
And is always present.
And is always present and in motion and there is motion in the computer,
there is always motion.
There is always motion that collapses and motion that contracts.
Some motion can't get out, some can't get in.
Some motion can't get out, can't get in.
Sometimes there are objects and states as if existing and these are
somewhere in the background.
As if existing for all time, to give existence a meaning.
Or huddled-cuddled around themselves, as if there are objects, objects,
And now you can hear them, there are no objects at all.
As if there were something to hear.
What is heard is the hearing of it.
What is heard are all the times and spaces of the hearing.
Let us call this beauty, untoward.
Let us call.

Generated by Mnemosyne 0.12.