Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1450: Writing Heavily

So I’m going through this period where I’m just writing heavily. Writing a lot of words, writing a lot of things, looking at drafts and finally finishing them, and I have no idea where this has come from. I think it might because I can see the endpoint, though it’s still a few hills over, but also because I’m just in a better mood than usual. Less tired. Not necessarily less feeling like shit, but in a better mood about it, I guess.

So I’m writing a lot and I’m getting things finished, and this is great. This is good. I need to anyway, as I’ve a lot of writing piled up, but I’m chipping away at it all and I’m getting stuff done, and this is great because, so long as I keep doing this and get things done, then I can finish them and move on, and in doing that, then perhaps I will see some sort of success that I feel is something I can stand behind… not that I don’t, but sometimes you want a bit more than you usually allow yourself to have. Or something like that. You get the idea.

But I’m sitting here and I’m wondering if I really will get to the top of the pile this time, or if it will all pass on by and that will be that. I’m wondering if I’m going to get better, or if I’m going to get worse. I have a lot I need to catch up on still, but I am getting there, if slowly. But I need to keep going.

I generally don’t make resolutions, but this year I’m trying to be healthier. Always am, of course, but this year it’s really happening. Always is, of course.

But I do need more sleep, but I always need more sleep. That will never change, but I’ll keep going.

I think a major issue is spending too much time on my phone. It’s easy to lose a lot of time on it, and it’s also easy to disengage… or so I’d hope. Perhaps it’s not. I am trying to keep track of things, of course, but I’m trying to stay away from it at the same time. Music is fine, but endless scrolling and going through stuff isn’t. That eats too much time and I need to take better care of myself when it comes to those things.

And so I’m just writing a lot and it’s great, and I’ll keep on writing and putting things out. I’ll keep on going for now, but I need to work on everything else I have on my pile. Slowly chip away, remain relentless, charge on and get through it all. Think about how I write, keep trying to learn and grow and put it all into practice, and remain focused, even if the focus is to just write aimlessly. If I do then maybe, just maybe this time I’ll get to the top of the pile.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:28:54

I was hoping for something sillier, but that was not to be.

Written at work.

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Naked

December 2014. I came home one day, decided to get naked. Though maybe it wasn’t that simple. I can’t remember whether I’d planned to or decided to do it on the spot, but I was naked. On the street and in the rain. Taking photos of myself. Outside of my house.

Somewhat embarrassing. Somewhat reaffirming, somehow.

I was living in Glebe at the time and there was something in me that compelled me to do this thing. It was, if I remember correctly, an incredibly stressful and anxiety-inducing time. I was quite on edge and frazzled and trying to keep it together, and I mostly was. Just trying to deal with things, get through them and keep getting on with my life however I could.

So I got home, and the weather wasn’t great, and I got my camera and propped it up on someone’s car, made sure no one was around. It began raining at one point, and I stood there, in the middle of the road and took photos. I stood there, went through it, went back inside.

I have a vague recollection of wanting to do a frank look at the self, but the photos didn’t turn out too well. However, even if they did, I don’t think I’d share them. There’s a vulnerability in them, but they’re also incredibly amateur. I had taken plenty of photos of people at that point, but not quite photographed them, so to speak. I know I hadn’t thought enough about form and expression, and so it comes through. Beyond that, I’m not quite in focus and they don’t really offer anything, but they do mean something to me.

In a way it felt uncomfortable to be there, in public, naked. There wasn’t anyone around and I stopped caring at a point, but there was some sort of relief. You know, that sort of “maybe things are okay”. I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done if someone showed up, because it would’ve been pretty confrontational to see someone standing there, naked in the rain, taking photos.

Perhaps those photos explore the idea of the self in an urban environment, and how artificial that environment is. How, whilst the urban environment presents a truth, it’s as honest as it is dishonest, and the human body is one of the few honest things remaining in the urban. But I know that I was looking at the self, and I was more looking at what I was rather than anything external. And the rain made it all the more typically dramatic, even though it was a matter of fact moment in time.

Would I do this again? Maybe. The circumstances that led to my standing there, naked, are not something I want to replicate. I’d have to find a way to be honest about it, because I could probably do it for the sake of it, but I don’t know if I could stand behind the result of that. The human body is a thing, but a lot of people find it confrontational, and sometimes I still do. But it is something worth trying to understand, though perhaps with more consideration.

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Another Person I Once Knew

So I had this friend that I mentioned a few times many years ago, Naa. Was a good friend for a good while. Had to fend off some lies people she knew said about me, and that was fun. It felt like she didn’t believe me, and I know her partner had a dim view of me without my having said much of anything to him and listening to when he corrected me on stuff, and after he complained about Naa to me too. I also know that at the time I was pretty intense. Still am, but less wildly so.

So Naa was a good friend, or maybe not really, because, in 2015, once I cut out my ex in what felt dramatic and cathartic at the time, but in hindsight was incredibly immature, I felt she dragged me back in. Then she stopped talking to me a few months later, near the end of 2015.

I remember having this conversation about my ex with Naa after I cut her out, and Naa telling me how she hadn’t spoken to her in a while as she was over her because of how she was acting. Naa talked about my ex taking the conversation away from her when she’d talk about things she was going through. I said to her that she should keep talking to my ex. Essentially, whilst part of me wanted people to take sides between us (I was still feeling emotionally raw), I also didn’t think that was good. Obviously I didn’t know the extent of what Naa was feeling, but I also knew that my ex was a good person.

So anyway, my ex went overseas for a while. At some point whilst she was, and out of nowhere, Naa asked me if I could pass on my ex’s mum’s number for reasons I’m not going to mention, because Naa asked me to keep it a secret and not tell anyone. I passed on the number and I kept the reasoning a secret; At least, at the time I did, because I have spoken to people who don’t know my ex or Naa about it since, but being drawn back into someone’s life I didn’t want to be involved in, and being told to keep it a secret fucked me up for a bit, and after some time I felt I’d been taken advantage of.

At one point I almost let slip to my ex’s mum, because we happened to be hanging out at one point (we tried to have a friendship separate from anything related to my ex and it didn’t work out), and not long after providing the phone number to Naa, everything was fine and it was there just in case, so I was wondering. I didn’t tell my ex’s mum about the why (I said something along the lines of the number being lost) and that started some questioning that ultimately went nowhere.

It got back to Naa and she said what she said about it, and I don’t think I said that I didn’t give any info away, or maybe I did but it was ignored; I can’t remember. I remember being apologetic though.

Eventually Naa stopped talking to me without saying anything (sometimes you drop people without a word, I get it), which wasn’t long after a brief message about trusting people, and it really hurt.

So why am I mentioning this? Why does any of this matter?

Like a lot of things out there, it really mattered at the time, and it mattered for a while after. Unfortunately in 2014 I became aware of Naa telling my ex what we talked about and so I realised I didn’t have much in the way of privacy in that friendship. I think when I found out I was hurt, but maybe I told myself that it was fine and I’d deserved it.

I’ve spent a good deal of time with people getting shitty at me and whilst I know of times that were on me, often I’ve not understood why. The most I’ve heard from anyone is that I’m hard to read (as though that’s justification), but I’ve spent a lot of time listening to people and having my issues brushed aside, and I’d spent a lot of time listening to Naa talk about her issues because that mattered to her and I wanted to listen, but if I was talking about mine, then I was talking about my issues too much. Again, I was wildly intense at the time, but I also know that I’d listened as much as I spoke.

At the end of the day I’m older now and it’s stuff that I forget about for a good long while until it briefly pops into my head and I think about it and move on because that was then and I’ve had time to deal. I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and I’m still not, but my friend lied to me about things and it sucked.

The breakup with my ex hurt a lot, but Naa cutting me out of her life without a word lingered longer because I’d known her a while. It was confusing when when she started following my work a few months later, but overall I’m probably better off not having that person in my life, but I hope she’s doing well. I hope she’s living a good life, because I don’t want to wish misery and pain on others. I don’t think that’s a good thing, and I don’t want to spread hurt.

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King Crimson: Nuages (That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds)

One listen for this one.

Just sort of went through it. I was hoping I’d get more imagery out of this, but that didn’t happen. I think this could’ve been better overall as I was thinking too much. Still, I got an idea of the song well enough.

King Crimson’s “Nuages (That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds” is from Three of a Perfect Pair.

I hope you enjoy.

A light, dripping beat and some long draws of sound. It seems dark, almost, and tense, but gentle. Something more clearly guitar comes through, seems to call out, looking to understand a moment and plays fast and slow. Seemingly those draws of sound extend and contract and counterpoint each other, and lower.

Clear guitar returns and plays broken and clear, and solid, striking moments here and there. Lower, bass sound underscores and seems almost rigid, and smoothly so, and all the sounds are creating something as foreign as it is familiar. They paint image passing on by in snapshots, and soon it all pulls away.

It’s just bass and percussion dripping, but only for a moment as the other sounds return. Seemingly bright and seemingly dim and all exists within contained contrasts and imagery, seemingly looking for a harmonisation in there, but never quite finding it, or always knowing it and never letting on that it does.

The sounds keep moving, spreading out and inward, and they drift and hold, and change their shape, but the percussion and bass remain steady, and toward the end the guitar disappears and more space comes in until it’s just bass and percussion for a few seconds, and soon the song ends.

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Unlimited Noise Hamburger

One day there was this object of desire that people couldn’t work out. It seemed to be of some sort of delectable creation, and it seemed to be everything that everyone desired, and something that no one desired, but it was there.

People would look at this object and they would try to understand it. There was something as odd about it as there was enticing. It drew enough people in. It looked like a standard hamburger, but it was crafted quite well. It was balanced and layered and still and all sorts of fresh, and it didn’t seem to age. But it was just a standard hamburger.

Crowds came and went, but as they came they grew larger. The hamburger being where it was – sitting in a nondescript city in a space that was open, but perhaps not open enough – meant that, whilst crowds could grow massive, there’d come a point where traffic would become disrupted; where people wouldn’t be able to walk along sidewalks, and where business would not be able to facilitate customers if the crowds kept growing. However, the city officials didn’t care, for they too were becoming enthralled by this hamburger. They were captured and pulled within its appeal.

Those who weren’t were, understandably, becoming greatly annoyed by its presence and how it was disrupting life, for they just wanted to get on with their days and, if they had to pass near it, they’d not know if they’d have to contend with a large mass of people or not, for the crowds did not have a schedule. Some decided it’d be better to move away, and so did. They lived a more regular life at that point, and good on them for doing so. Some didn’t have the choice due to the belief in obligation preventing them from doing so, so they tried to cope as best they could.

One day, when one crowd had reached a particular amount of people, the faint sound of the lettuce leaves in the hamburger flapping against each other could be heard. It was faint – incredibly so – and yet, all the people there could hear it. Its volume gradually increased over what seemed like an eternity, until it seemed to engulf everything. But the hamburger was still.

Once at a certain volume, a loud, shrill hum pierced the space. Gradually more harsh noises came, and the people were enthralled, or so they seemed to be at first. It was not long before they found themselves prostrate, and it seemed as though the ground underneath no longer existed and was replaced by bodies.

The sounds called out for ages and for a distance, and the area was empty of movement. Any animals in the area left, and those who remained in the city and were not joined in took longer routes to get wherever, for the sound kept layering and increasing. It remained confined, but it was eternal and even if not heard, it could be felt. It changed behaviour and the dynamic relationship between concrete and flesh, and there was nothing that could be done.

Eventually someone became so angry about their life being impacted by this that they decided to walk over the crowd and toward the hamburger. Armed with earplugs of an exceptional quality, they stepped over people who were angry about this person’s approach, but they could not do anything about it for they were paralytic. And this person was angrier than they were, anyway.

They approached with firm conviction, and despite their earplugs being as good as they were, the sounds started coming through. Still, they kept moving with conviction and they arrived at the hamburger, and proceeded to kick it over.

With one firm bunt the burger fell over and fell apart, and the moment it did the sounds stopped. The person walked away; they had to get to work. Soon the crowd there started getting up, seemingly as though nothing had happened and they hadn’t been lying there for weeks. They returned to their lives.

Those in the crowd denied anything had happened and denied that they were caught in the hamburger’s thrall, and some even denied that there was a burger there, but people knew, and though they eventually gave up on trying to get people to admit to their being misled, relationships were changed.

As for the hamburger, well, it was just a hamburger and its constituent components were thrown out as though waste, which, once it had fallen apart, it had become.

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Early Wake for a Bushwalk

Waking up at around three in the morning for the purpose of actually doing something is something I generally don’t enjoy. Still, I do it as it will normally lead to some sort of enjoyment a little later.

Way way back, when I’d fly to Melbourne I’d normally be awake somewhere between three and four in the morning. I’d shave, have a shower, do my last luggage check and then head off to the airport in the dark of the night. Be there at around five or half past five, ready for a flight at around half past six. The airport would mostly be empty. It never was entirely, but it mostly was. I’d be there, wander on over to my terminal and wait, as one does.

The preference for early leaving is one I favour as I’m not much of a crowd person, or much of a people person for that matter. It’s always quieter in the early hours. It’s always easier to navigate around places. It’s also good for catching the sunrise.

Yesterday I woke up at three in the morning. Ewe and I were going to do a bushwalk in a spot we hadn’t and I wanted to be there for the sunrise. He was down. I was down. We did it. The weather wasn’t looking amenable for the sunrise, but we still went early anyway. Far less people to deal with on the road is always a load of stress off.

I got up, had a shower, loaded the car and drove off. I left ten minutes later than I was hoping to at the absolute latest, but it was okay. I still arrived around the time I was meant to.

The drive to where we were going to start was uneventful, which was great. Some people driving with their high beams on, but cars were few and far between. Some heavy fog at points, but I got to the walk with no concerns and that was great.

A few minutes after my arrival and Ewe arrived. We got ready and headed on out. It was still overcast, but the sun made an appearance for a short time, or rather first light and the subsequent sunrise did. It was a wonderful display of a small amount of colour breaking through some of the cloud and fog, and it was precious. It was wonderful.

We walked up an incline and left the path only to find it again soon after. We walked and saw a change in vegetation in that invasive flora was starting to consume what was endemic to the area. Bush fires likely had allowed for the invasive flora to start growing.

A lot of what was around us felt scrubby, and a lot of it scratched as we brushed past it, and that’s the way it goes sometimes. But we dealt with it. We kept on going, and the air should’ve felt cool, and maybe it didn’t, but at least I was feeling quite warm and so I wasn’t noticing it as it also felt humid.

We walked and walked until we reached a junction, and we wondered how much farther until we reached the top of where we were. Checked out map and realised we walked past the placed marker for where we were. The path we were on kept going, and descended a bit. We were feeling it a bit from the walk up, so we decided to turn around. Walked a few minutes, checked the map again, realised we walked past the marker again. Didn’t recognise it at the time; it was a pile of rubble that we dismissed. Didn’t double back.

On the way down we sat on a rock and watched clouds move through the area. A valley, gone. Engulfed by the clouds. We sat there for a little while, just relaxing. Enjoying the lack of view and the sense of isolation. No one else around. It felt peaceful, and perhaps it was. It had been a while since Ewe and I had sat somewhere, staring out into nothingness. Perhaps the last time was at Balls Head Reserve, looking out to Balmain, talking shit and relaxing. Being in various stages of some sort of turmoil. Here we were just relaxing and enjoying the time and space.

Eventually we continued on. On the walk back to our cars I looked back a few times to see the path obscured by fog and not by much of a distance away either. We walked through and on top of a massive area, but it didn’t feel like it for parts of the walk. It felt small and contained. Didn’t feel like what it was at all.

We headed back to where we parked and drove on out to go eat, and we did and worked out another walk to do, though with the second one we only did a little of it. It was partly due to not feeling much of a desire to walk upward at that point, and partly due to the second area seeing a lot of people there by the time we arrived, which was still in the morning.

We checked out another walk as we were leaving, but in its offering a descent, we knew we’d have to go back up and instead decided to go to a café to get something to drink. Which we did.

We sat there, talked in a rambling way, then headed off. Ewe went to meet another friend and I went home, in what was an easy drive. A lot of other cars by that point, but less than the amount coming in.

When I reached the motorway I put my windows down, did something I wouldn’t normally do in blasting my music, and rested my arm on the windowsill, and drove on. I was wrecked. I was tired. But it felt like a right moment. The music I was playing at that point was climactic, and even though this was regular, it felt climactic.

Got home without issue. It was a busy morning and a lazy afternoon, and perhaps there isn’t enough of that in my life these days, but I take advantage of it where I can.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1449: All Those Other Things

So, here we are, at the start of another week of work and I’m tired and all of those things. I’m all and every one of those things. Constantly and never, but right now definitely.

Did a bit of hiking yesterday. Did a bit of very little the day prior. Here now. Sitting down, resting, preparing for the day ahead. Screaming internally and looking forward, and listening to Toad the Wet Sprocket and they aren’t bad. This is a nice bit of music to be hearing right now. Makes me think of one of the things I’m working on, and that’s a good thing, or perhaps not as I should be thinking about other things.

Or should I? What should I be thinking about at the present moment? Thoughts are often so spread out and they lead the way, so does it matter all that much? I can only follow where they lead, or be dragged along through all the lack of focus and all those other things. I can only go through the motions of having to experience my thoughts and right now there probably isn’t something in particular that I should be thinking about. I’m just doing my thing, sitting here, getting along and all that. I’m resting as I’m sore, or rather I’m tired.

I feel like I should be sore but I’m not. To be fair, the hiking wasn’t the most strenuous, but it was tough, and maybe Ill write about it later, but there are other things to take care of, as always. All those other things that are always there, hanging about, crowding my mind and making me wonder if what I’m thinking is what I should be thinking, or  if there are other things to think, or nothing at all… you get the idea.

I’m here, perched on this chair, sitting like a person perched on this chair. I’m sitting here, resting, reclining, wondering how the day will go now. I’m thinking about the intensity of the morning as it will be an intense first hour. A lot of running around, getting things sorted, making sure things work, preparing for the rest of the day. I just want to rest. I don’t want to be tired and I want to think more about this music and its shape and form, and how it seems to be everything and nothing expressed in a few minutes. It passes with the day and the day passes as though a breeze moving beyond where it can be felt by one person, disappearing and never entering memory, but having made its impact by that being as natural as its motion.

But music does hold in memory. Not always, of course, but it usually does, among all those other things that sit there, moving through the main focus and holding attention where necessary, and I sit here, just waiting and being beholden to whatever it is that I must. Anyway, soon work commences and my thoughts will change again.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:36:75

So parts of this I think are quite strong. However, I feel that, overall, this is a disjointed bit of writing.

Written at work.

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Dog Bounding Along

This was taken early last year.

From what I remember, the dog was happy and this photo is unfortunate in how its face is captured, but it was a happy and lovely dog.

This is my submission into the three hundred-and-thirty-fourth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “Cats and Dogs“.

The host of the Lens-Artists challenges cycles weekly between the following people:

Tina

Patti

Ann-Christine aka Leya

John Steiner

Sofia Alves

Anne Sandler

Egídio

Ritva

This one is curated by Tina. The next one is curated by Patti.

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.

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Envy: Eunoia

I started this review back in October and finished it today.

At the start of last year I published a review of Eyeliner’s brb (found here) and I described the writing as transitional. I do want my writing to be more rambling in a sense, but more concise rambling. My reviewing has often been too rigid and not said enough, or much of anything. I’m trying to be more loose and move toward more narrative and writing or the experiential, because I feel I’m better at writing something more akin to a narrative than I am of a standard review. I’ve been pushing toward trying to analyse a work and talk about it rather than attempt to be a taste maker for a long time anyway, and that review was a big step in what I feel is the right direction, overall.

With Eunoia I took a further step into being more experiential in my writing, brought some of my friend’s experience into the review too. But it took a while to edit as it was a lot of small adjustments here and there, trying to clean the writing up without making it too rigid. I mostly got there.

Most of my interview and review work now appears on Culture Eater.
My colleague and I set up a Patreon to further develop Culture Eater as a source of good quality arts coverage from both ourselves and our contributors.

We’re looking at what we can give to supporters as we don’t want to set up a one way relationship, so suggestions are welcome. Podcast Eater is one of the things we’ve got going and (aside from the next few weeks) new episodes are available through there first.

Please consider supporting, or at least sharing the Patreon page with others. Please also check out what our wonderful contributors are contributing.

I hope you enjoy.

When Eunoia was announced I felt apprehensive. I think I had a brief listen of “Beyond the Raindrops” and “Whiteout” when they came out in advance, but neither left me excited for hearing the whole thing. Envy songs are generally better in context and over time though, and my initial feeling wasn’t out of the ordinary for an upcoming release. As such, there was a good chance that after a few listens I’d feel better about it.

Anyway, Eunoia released on October 11th. I gave it a listen, and sure enough the material sounds like Envy’s work. “Piecemeal” didn’t win me over, but it sounded pleasant. A good way to open the album through its gentleness which continues through a gradual build and dissipation. Easy. Touching. Perhaps a little too close to “Tamayura”, but it also kind of feels like a continuation from where Seimei left off without being beholden to it, so it’s nice the way it is.

Next comes “Imagination and Creation” and its opening moments are highly dramatic, and something feels off. Then everything kicks into high gear and the idea of breathing space goes right out the window. Eunoia is fairly relentless, and generally Envy’s albums have mastering that veers close to overbearing. Here it’s overbearing. Audible distortion; passages becoming indistinct and muddy, sometimes to the point where percussion becomes difficult to make out.

Eunoia runs through a few moods but they’re as range-limited as the songs they’re within. You turn the volume up and the songs don’t have anywhere to go as they were already giving everything when played at a lower volume. Shortly after release I tried listening to it through three different setups and each one had the same result: loud, and distortion and indistinctness, but not in the “vague and dreamy” way. After the first and second listen I felt I’d gotten all the album had. I hadn’t, but it lacks the required range to fully express. It’s dynamic in the way many of Envy’s works are, but it never feels dynamic.

And that’s part of the reason why this write-up on the album has taken the time that it has, because the songs don’t deserve to have that focus taken away. However, when your new album sounds louder than Melt-Banana’s (3 + 5 at the time of this writing), it’s unpleasant trying to dig through to find something of substance to say beyond the go-tos for Envy: emotive music, blasts of energy, new approaches / styles / differing sounds / furthering their sound. Screams, spoken word and singing layer onto the moving nature of the songs as their instrumentation rages and swirls around. You know, something like that. And that’s also unfair as much like Envy’s prior albums, Eunoia offers more than the regular platitudes.

It’s easy to get tunnel vision with Envy, but among all the surface they often offer enough to dig into. I mean, listen to “Invisible Understanding” from Compiled Fragments, or their side of their split with Jesu, or just even “Shining Finger” from Athiest’s Cornea, with the way the synth smoothly does this sweeping, dramatic thing and rises up in what feels like a celebratory climax. Those songs have strong surface components, but they provide a depth and become stronger over repeat listens. You also get that with Eunoia, though in different forms of course.

You also get that with Eunoia, and it’s interesting in that it gets a lot of different things going in its short runtime. At times it feels like it’s rushing, and it feels like the first half rather than a complete package. It is a complete package though, and it touches on many emotive moments throughout its dense run. Those moments run through jagged playing, ideas of the sparse against full, holding back and letting loose, and the band work it from their energy with a great focus and precision. There are times when it becomes too much, however, as even in the gentler moments, it just doesn’t feel like it breathes. At all.

Recently my friend Darsh came around for a lazy day of hanging and talking. We did some card throwing, played Scrabble, had tea and listened to music. Something we listened to was Eunoia on vinyl. It might just be the worst-sounding record I own, and not by a small amount either. The mastering issues remained and were amplified which led to a dissatisfying experience. It was obvious enough that Darsh, someone who has far less interest in the mastering quality of music than I do, thought it was an issue.

There’s probably a good argument regarding records as a superfluous format. Digital has come a long way, and likely supersedes any audio quality benefits a record may offer. However, there’s something about spending the time with putting on one that makes you more an active participant in listening. I don’t think enough artists treat records as worthy of respect, however, and are too willing to accept lacklustre pressings. This seems more common when a record functions more as something to collect than something to listen to. I suspect that this was the intent behind the “warm grey” version.

So I struggled with Eunoia. So what? Underneath the master is an album that experiments with intensity, warmth, emotion, vocal processing and textural play, among other things. There’s some wonderful stuff going on and eventually it sort of sunk in, but the damage was done. Instead of appreciating the work, I was wondering what could have been.

I know I’m harping on here, but when I hear distortion on sounds growing quieter at a song’s end, I’m not struck by the beauty of the moment, but rather its unpleasantness. I think about the rhythmic, gentle start for “Beyond the Raindrops” and I dread what comes next as it almost entirely becomes a wall of loud. Eunoia‘s songs are great, but they’re not allowed to be great. Plenty of its moments are evocative, but listening to it is tiring. I want to properly hear the music, but there’s this big barrier in the way that pushes back.

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Sunrise Cloud Line

From the first sunrise of this year.

Just a nice, relaxing scene. Nothing too big about it. Very minimal, very small.

I hope you enjoy.

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