Today is a bit of a lost day, so just a photo and nothing more.
I took this a good few weeks ago. I should’ve accounted better for the light as the shadows are a bit too strong, but otherwise I like how this turned out. Probably too busy, but there’s a pleasantness that appeals to me. Maybe it’s the sense of quiet.
I hope you enjoy.
I was trying to capture a sense of drift and massiveness in the clouds. I feel I got the drift well enough, but the massiveness not so much. Still, there’s a certain looming that’s there. Sort of aids to a sensation that maybe Sydney CBD isn’t that big.
Having so few buildings in frame probably suggests that the most. Realistically, this could be so many places, but it’s not. It’s still firmly within Sydney.
This is my submission into the three hundred-and-seventy-seventh Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “Holiday Fun“. I feel this photo fits as part of holiday fun can just be looking at the sky, relaxing a little.
The host of the Lens-Artists challenges cycles weekly between the following people:
This one is curated by Leya. The next one is curated by everyone.
I recommend joining the community and participating in the challenges. They’re pretty straightforward, allow room for interpretation, and provide a good way to think about photography in general. If not, however, then at the very least you should check out what others submit to the challenges.
I hope you enjoy.
One listen and got through it with what I felt was a good deal of ease. I’m operating on nowhere near enough sleep today, so getting to this one and being a bit more loose and relaxed about what I was writing than I was the prior music writings from today is a good thing.
Did that looseness come through well? I think yes and no. There’s uncertainty about what I’m hearing and what is coming forward, which might be a good thing. I found images of structure, of natural scenery, and of finality. I feel I could’ve explored these a bit more than I did, though maybe how I covered them does work well for the song. They came at different moments rather than all at once, so there’s a flow, but maybe that’s me trying to convince myself that what I did works well.
Patrick Sansone’s “Press to Null” is from Infinity Mirrors.
I hope you enjoy.
—
Keys call out, and a bright shining vibration responds. Keys call out once more, and maybe they actually are creating and guiding the vibration. It’s a gentle moment. It’s a peaceful moment. It stretches on through this quiet space that could be as bright as it could be dark. Nice and gentle, and more sounds come forward between keys.
Filling out, building to something. Building to nothing. Building to everything. Almost a symphony of crystalline sounds, humming, shining, vibrating their way into mass and form. Into defined shape.
A deeper sound underscores and changes the flow. It rises when necessary and now everything is a low grandeur. Massive. Small. Emotional. And everything grows. Slowly. Everything grows and takes new shape, becoming new form that remains as it always was, and it’s all calm at a quiet shoreline, or above clouds, moving smoothly, floating away, floating among pretty skies.
There’s a wonderment to everything. A wonderment, a deep sadness, but a deep peace. Perhaps an acceptance, and a pleasantness among it all. And it’s all climactic, but low. Low grandeur, carrying forward into the last moments before everything stops and the song ends.
One listen.
Some imagery came through, but perhaps not enough. Can always do better with these things. That said, I think I covered the song well enough. I think what I wrote makes enough sense.
Patrick Sansone’s “Jupiter Removed” is from Infinity Mirrors.
I hope you enjoy.
—
What could be a shoreline appears, and then a long horn as an instrument. It draws long, stops for a brief moment, then starts again. Another long sound joins it and at the breath, changes. It lowers then rises, and finds itself in a loop. Another sound appears and alters the sense of melody, and something at a high pitch slowly moves through the space.
There’s a slight twinkle, or at least what seems like a twinkle here and there, and there’s something gargantuan, almost. Something beyond massive, moving slow and moving quick. Soft steps come in and the sounds seem to grow stronger. Seem to.
The sounds form this odd beauty; things feel off, but they feel so right. They drift on, old and worn out and as strong as the day of their youth. They haunt slow, and are familiar, and still and in motion and changing whilst never growing.
Eventually a new, deeper sound comes in. It guides, lowers and rises, like breathing in a sense. And it soon stops and takes with it most of what was here, leaving a few sounds on their own to fade away as the song ends.
The last few weeks have been incredibly interesting and there’s so much to say, but I don’t know how I even go about covering everything. I don’t know how I go about covering all the bits and pieces of my life in a way that speaks more than just words, because it was all life lived. It was all interesting and all nothing, and none of it mattered. And everything did matter and still does. But I just want tow rite. I feel awake enough to write and I’m trying to get as much of it done as quickly as I can, and that’s the best way to go about things right now. I think. Just write and get the details down and then get on with life. Get on to what comes next, and there is a lot to come. There always is a lot to come, really.
I think of 2015 and how that year was great and sucked, and ten years later it seems all the same and entirely different. Well, probably closer to 2014, but you know. That’s something for the people who have been reading this space for a long time. But it’s been a lot of depression and grief and misery, and realising that the relationship that ended this year was quite possibly an abusive one, and in getting away from my ex, I am doing significantly better.
I want to be clear: I contributed to the problems in that relationship. I will never deny that. I will also never claim that my ex was intentionally abusive, or set out to be. There was no physical violence and there were plenty of good times, but it was quite possibly an abusive relationship, and as the time passes I feel more and more relieved to not have her in my life. And that’s the way it goes, sometimes. But what else is there to say?
There’s something I want to write about that’s sort of related to classism in photography, and that’s gonna be a tough write, I think. I’ll need to start gathering interviews and all that. When I say “sort of”, I mean it’s about classism in photography, but likely will be more about attitudes in photography. And I’m going to rant it out soon, because that is something that I’ve realised is near and dear to my heart. Perhaps I have a massive chip on my shoulder. I don’t know, but I do think it’s something worth exploring. Something worth digging into. There are others who could cover it far better than I can, but I’m going to give it a good go anyway. I just want to see if I can get into it and get something forward and out there that says something.
Beyond that, a lot of bad driving, a lot of everything and plenty of nothing. Trying to look after myself. Working on this new relationship in my life, though it doesn’t feel like work and that’s nice. It’s part of a hopeful way to end a fucked year, really. And, you know, I’m not so much looking toward the far future, but I am looking forward, and that’s nice.
I think about this year before it’s over. There are still a good few days. I think about it and just how awful it has been. There has been plenty of good and a lot of bad, and getting dumped sent ripples and echoes throughout the days, and still continue to to do so. However, I’m feeling lighter. I’m not feeling like I’m lost without my ex. I don’t feel like something is missing, and that’s good. I feel more annoyed and frustrated, but I don’t want to go back. It’d take a lot and the circumstances would have to be incredibly exceptional. I’m not interested. I’ve a lot to see and do, and I’ve now someone in my life who wants to see and do things, too. See and do things more often. I don’t feel I have to be emotionally and mentally strong enough for two people, and that’s great.
But that says little about the past few weeks, of which there is a lot to say and nothing at all. Just… things have been getting better. There have been spikes of shittiness here and there, but the more I think about it as I write this, the more I realise that there’s little point in covering most of it. Why should I? It’s not what I want to be writing and I keep writing, and today I’m just gonna try and get out a lot of things if I can. I can do it and I will do it and today will be that day, but maybe it isn’t. I don’t know and I don’t need to know as of yet, anyway. I just need to keep doing what I’m doing.
I also need more sleep. More sleep is good, more sleep is great. But I’m getting there.
One thing I don’t like doing is going on these lengthy strands talking about how I’m getting better. I’m always getting better. Plenty of others are, too. The year isn’t over yet. It nearly is, and I’m sitting at a table and I’m writing about it, and I think it’s nice that I can do this. It’s not the most exciting thing in the world. That’s okay, but I desire to go elsewhere. I desire to explore other things and the only way that I can do that is if I actually go and start exploring those other things. So I need to do that and I can try and do that and see where it all goes. But that’s all soon. Not yet. But soon.
What a few weeks. I’m sitting here, crapping on about myself and I don’t know how to articulate all that has happened. But it’s been mostly good and I’m doing well, and right now what matters is that, and not what has happened.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 12:57:03
Decent speed. Bit of a mess.
I’ve an idea of what I wrote, but it was a few days ago and I don’t want to read over it at the moment. I do know that this didn’t go the way I hoped and that’s fine. I think the overall quality could be much higher, however.
Written at work.
One listen.
This one was tough for me as, early on, I hit a wall. What I should’ve done is let myself be really free with my writing, but I was set on describing what was happening, even though I lost steam early. The song does progress, but it’s also quite static for a good chunk of it, and I wasn’t locking into it enough.
Andriesh Gandrabur’s “Warehouse Notkin” is from Pathologic OST, the soundtrack for Pathologic.
I hope you enjoy.
—
Strings come in, pull away. Come in with a bit more harshness, pull away. Come in with tension, sudden, pull away. Lower, slower, pull away. And so on it goes, until something more metallic comes forward a lot and leaves a trail as it fades. The strings draw long until percussion comes in, almost clapping.
Another metallic sound comes forward and leaves a trail, and a pause before something else seems to look for a moment before disappearing. The strings stand and seem to tremble, and a heavy dread rises whilst keys play menace. The strings shake violently before disappearing again.
Percussion returns with those keys and the keys still play menace, but they feel off, too. They seem stressful and claustrophobic, almost. And it stops once more.
The strings continue their rising and falling and shaking and changing of length, and other sounds continue to come in and fall away. They seem to breathe, almost. Breathe and tremble and shake, and keys return, distorted, playing a higher series of notes, almost spindly, and definitely deft.
The keys disappear, and things seem to grow quiet. Eventually another violent shake and a busier beat with electronic pulses takes over, bringing energy and action with them. A moment that cuts into the tension of ti all as it seems the tension is unleashed, but it disappears for the growing of the quiet.
This does not last long and those electronic pulses and whips and curves come back, cutting through the quiet as though a disappearing moment, for they do not last. All that has lasted is the strings, and despite some brief wisps of sound, they are all that is consistent all the way to the song’s end.
There’s a patch of clear sky between these steeples. Initially I was trying to capture this part of St Mary’s Cathedral without any clear sky in it, but I think what I’ve captured works here. It sort of feels like a crack in the grimness. It’s interesting to me.
This is my submission into Leanne Cole‘s “Monochrome Madness” for this week. I once more have the good fortune of hosting this one and, as it’s themed, I’ve chosen “The Space Between”.
The theme is about the space between objects. It’s about what you see in it and what it can mean. But the theme can mean many things, so long as it explores the space between.
This challenge is open to all, and I recommend joining in. If want to, check out more information about it here, and include the tag “monochrome-madness” when you share your photo. If you’d prefer not to join in, then at the least check out Leanne’s photography, and what other people submit.
I hope you enjoy.
One listen.
I’ve known of this song for years and years. From memory, I first heard it used in a video of a fight against Monster Hunter Dos‘ Yama Tsukami. I’d gotten a copy of the soundtrack the song is on and I’d played the whole thing maybe once or twice. There were some other songs on it that I liked and I ended up gravitating to those more. Decided to get another copy of the soundtrack recently after it popped back into my head and couldn’t find mine.
I tried to get something. I loosened up a bit toward the end, though I wish I had sooner. The way it goes, sometimes. I think this works. It could be a bit more cohesive, but I do think it works.
Susumu Hirasawa’s (平沢進) “Murder” is from Kenpū Denki Berserk: Original Soundtrack., the soundtrack for the 1997 anime adaptation of Berserk.
I hope you enjoy.
—
Bubbling in a silent space, and those bubbles rise as a drone rises with them. The drone is akin to strings, and soon more sound, also akin to strings, come forward and rock back and forth. Builds on the foundation. More come in, expanding the form and shape, and that bubbling increases and it roils, and the strings change as that bubbling becomes something else and comes to the forefront, it’s still there. More sounds form, and the space is dark and pitch, and also coloured deeply and heavily, framing and pressing in and letting the space expand all the same.
Percussion and something like voices come in at the right time, and those voices rise and fall as the percussion strikes with specific flashes; specific glimpses, cutting out a lot of scenery. The bubbling rises and froths and seems almost ready to crash and burst forth, and falls away and comes back; it’s waves, and the sounds get stronger, more tense, and then the percussion changes.
More rapid, less striking and things seem lower; more “flowing” than before, driving and pushing underneath. The strings stir more obviously, and the striking returns, and everything moves toward what could be an inevitable conclusion. Everything pushes further into a breaking point, pushing, looking to find what comes next, trying to bring in a moment that they also are trying to prevent. Trying to prevent the inevitable.
It is a foreboding, dolesome moment, and what is is ornate, and it stirs and swells and rushes past like a strong wind trapping, creating a circle, swirling ever inward, violently tearing, gnashing. Closing in more and more, grand, eloquent and messy and violent, and the sounds don’t let up.
They exhibit a calmness to them, or perhaps it is a knowing, and a mourning at this point. But they keep on their pattern, and they don’t release, and they keep moving, and gradually they fade away. Voice and percussion remain prominent until they also leave and the song ends.
Stupidity Hole 