Spindly limbs and a low roar leads to some push and a slight bit of aggression, but of course a gentle voice will carry it all back down and somewhere closer to a world of calm familiarity. Long the sticks hit the rim and with quick precision, until it is time to hit something else and make the noise rise.
Another burst and this one reaches a bit higher, but of course the shifts once more away and into another world. It jumps and moves away from familiarity to another place of familiarity. It itself is the constant, but it continual shifts and brings new things in as new becomes old and old becomes left behind.
However, it’s all recognisable as one one cognizant thing. It has its start, middle and end, but it seems to know when to make it seem as though there is no middle. Of course there’s a soothing sensation that rises around the rage of the base noises and it is in that where the great contrast of beauty is born. Whether it is a good contrast or not is something I cannot say. It certainly does seem appropriate, however.
Onto something completely different now and it’s the sound of something gentle and wanting to welcome in all of its constituent elements. Slight taps to form patterns of the simultaneous variety and of course there is the swelling and rising of what could pass for a breeze of sorts, but its all for the servicing of the main flow and direction, of which all is happy to comply and follow along in what seems to be reaching for something bigger and something greater than the sum of its parts, or maybe just something that just has a harmonious whole, or maybe something that’s meant to just bring a sense of closure and little else. Perhaps that is the way it is meant to be, but that of course begets new beginnings and new beginnings lead to new endings at some stage.
Now something that steps in slowly and carefully, almost as though every move is lightly considered before made. There’s a snappiness to it, but there is space between each motion and of course this means that things can be a bit more gentle and perhaps whimsical. Perhaps.
It all seems to lead in one direction as something twinkles down and tries to touch a surface, but fades before it can so as to allow the next thing to try once more. Little rises, little falls and a steady motion in the forward direction leads it all to somewhere not originally expected, but also unsurprising. It’s familiar but in a most cosy and pleasant way and that’s probably the best way for this to all be at this point, for the time for my leaving this seated position and entering a state of horizontal position so as to be able to close my eyes for a while approaches far faster than I had initially expected.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:19:95
I’m not quite sure as to how this reads.
Perhaps it’s abstract writing. Perhaps impressionistic. Really not sure.
I can confirm that I was looking to express what I was listening to at the time of writing.
Written at home.