sarangi, siva
http://www.alansondheim.org/sarangis.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/siva.mp3 (90-year-old sarangi)
Are you going to come and listen to this sarangi concert. Yes
Sir. I saw the pleasure to go with you for I am going there
myself and I will be very happy if you are part of my company
that we are going together to hear the sarangi concert. It's
impossible to travel alone is it not. In company, time doesn't
pass at all. Oh this carriage is very narrow. Is this the wrong
guy, a problem for you. Not in the least I'm perfectly at ease
but to be honest I am really worried. Let us place our legs
between each other's. Give me leave to put this foot a little
bit more forward. There now, that will do. 0h0h0h0h0h0h0h. You
don't bother me at all. Sit up at your ease. Now I will play
this sarangi for you. Do you like my sarangi playing. It would
give me great pleasure to play the sarangi for you. Where shall
we sleep tonight. Show you playing with the wrong guy while you
sleep tonight. Show your playing with the sarangi while you
sleep tonight. Your company is certainly very agreeable but I
confess I wish I wish I was listening to the sarangi somewhere
else. Ah. We are arrived at last. let us step down. Goodbye
Sarah, I certainly will never see you again. Goodbye, Sir, I
assure you I possess exactly the same comforture and emotion as
you so, forth with. May I help you with your baggage, Sir. Oh
Sir, may I help you with your emotional baggage. Oh Madam, you
do jest. Oh Sir, please do play the sarangi for me. How I love
the way you strum.
. . .
the solitaire i and ii (this needs time, apologies)
http://www.alansondheim.org/kingston200.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/solitaire1.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/solitaire2.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/solitaire3.mp3
solitaire i
Wed Dec 27 15:49:06 EST 2017
tired of writing, these arms; tired of thinking, these hands.
the swing of the arms: impediment, a pediment falls to the
pavement. Wed Dec 27 16:00:43 EST 2017
adding to the other, subtracting from the self.
Wed Dec 27 16:01:06 EST 2017
Wed Dec 27 15:49:06 EST 2017
in solitaire, the truth is that of the obdurate, that is a real
which is networked only to the extent that the world has a
certain style, nothing more.
Wed Dec 27 15:52:14 EST 2017
the abandonment of clarity is the clarity of abandonment;
the clarity of abandonment is the abandonment of clarity.
the absence of the 'Other,' of alterity, is resonant with
the disheveled natural order.
Wed Dec 27 15:54:43 EST 2017
what is new is beguiled under absence; what is beguiled presents
itself beneath the imaginary signifier of beguiling.
to beg is to receive the receptor; not to beg is to be at the
mercy of the scepter.
Wed Dec 27 15:56:24 EST 2017
aphorisms go only so far; there is no further.
Wed Dec 27 15:56:51 EST 2017 breathing is
always among the solitaires, lasting only as long as the dodo,
fighting off other with furious blows of the wings.
Wed Dec 27 15:57:37 EST 2017
soon, on my part, and in my name, there will be nothing left to
say. there will be no minding, no reminding, no lists, all is
always already unfinished.
Wed Dec 27 15:58:37 EST 2017
what aphorisms remain after the close of this program?
what remains after the close of these eyes?
Wed Dec 27 15:59:29 EST 2017
one waits no longer for derailing, which prohibits return;
what is derailed is a new railing, always already derailed.
Wed Dec 27 16:00:14 EST 2017
subtracting from the other, adding to the self
Wed Dec 27 16:01:22 EST 2017
Wed Dec 27 16:01:23 EST 2017
solitaire ii
solitaire, solitary person living in solitude, recluse, hermit
and large extinct bird which formerly inhabiting the islands of
mauritius and rodrigeuz, larger and taller than the wild turkey,
flightless. they are noted their sweet songs and retiring
habits. called also the invisible bird.
the single string plays itself. the dead world. solo music or a
singer and a song. the obdurate and natural speechless, where
everything is neighborhood.
here in this place i cannot write and cannot but write. we drive
the stuttered machine into the cold. i dream of a one-string
sarangi. i dream i have talent. i will peer into the homes of
happy neighbors, will add comment or commentary in the grit of
social media, message grid in my teeth as i attempt sleep. oh to
think of wealth and accession, access, easy travel, repair,
dinner or coffee invitation. the regime is alterity elsewhere.
the alterity of the node is faceless. dialog of the dead. always
room for error; testability requires the other - standards,
protocols, raster. the justification of dreams. But for an
invitation out of our home! To that of another!
this perhaps explains the music, for example, or the texts or
images, still or moving, delving into themselves; there's no one
or room at the other end of the line. i feed whatever sound i do
back into me, where it churns; i'm drawn into my own resources
to work originally, whatever it takes to keep myself going. it's
like that. it's like nothing else.
enjoy the music; the images and texts as well contribute to the
murky outlining of a chthonic philosophy that takes networking,
instrumental reason (remember that?) and technology as seriously
as it does the phenomenology of the slime mold, the turbulence
of the wave wash, and the cultures of the dinosaurs. now or
never, proceed.
Wed Dec 27 16:23:40 EST 2017
22c22
< dishevelled natural order.
---
> dishevelled natural order.
Wed Dec 27 16:27:35 EST 2017
. . .
