The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

June 25, 2017


resonant remapping

http://www.alansondheim.org/mawd2.png
http://www.alansondheim.org/mawd2.mp4

remapped avatar, year 2008, resonant again, altered motion
capture files from West Virginia University and thanks to Gary
Manes, Sandy Baldwin, Azure Carter, Foofwa d'Immobilite, Frances
van Scoy, all who fed into this video, ultimately rendered in
Blender

churned and coruscated, already i hear rumbles precisely outside
the window here on Westminster, perhaps coming from the corner
at Empire, or nearer Aurora, on Aborn, rushing near or far from
Interstate 95 in one direction, the river in the other, and
Borromean not

my own churnmonster o i heard you so monster death churn .is
analogous to the body and the cams trans the body's inscribed
:direction .my own churnmonster o i heard you so death churn fix
back into what I am writing and abandon what has been in my own
effluvia; it spatters, forms words, as if: here they are. Nikuko
says: of the world would churn through the world and inverted
mothers .and the cams churn the body, and things churn symbols;
the world anywhere of nothing were and is would as recirculate
towards interiors and subtexts, substructures, noise and chora
.cams presuppose the world and inverted mothers - chora/drive,
circumscription cal interiors .my direction. falter futuredeath
the future of speaking fathered gridlock & fill in space and
supplications, the plastic skin formlessness of M, tearing into
my flesh. I roll over, churn gloved, they or instead, quick
successions of notes as in the outer, i call to it, they churn
dark in my body's embers. on the streets, I see time's vast
conflagration, my bones resonate .on the streets, I hear time's
vast murmur, myself. I body edit, apart not rearticulate .what
your of worlds which can never be spoken, which murmur past
language or instead, churn writing simultaneously incorporating
song singing the air itself, the churn of Searchlight Fantastic;
split churn back into what am writing and abandon has been
tatters. When I speak, my voice sleeps. I murmur sounds. She
exclaims, texts are absorbed, applets churn through the past,
rendering it. The past murmurs body. turning and tumble within
the brilliant light in the valley where you huddle within them
.open animation, churn sci sessen - ous sua - nes lit - se, open
sessions, "applets churn through the past, rendering it"

"applets churn through the past, rendering it"

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