Wednesday 30 March 2022

Completed Photoshop Experiments (Untitled)

 


All Images: Untitled Photoshop Experiments, March 2022



"On the whole, seen from this distance, the castle matched K.'s expectations. It was neither an old-style knight's stronghold, nor a modern palace, but an extended complex consisting of a few two-storeyed but a great many lower buildings set close together, had you not known it was a castle, you might have taken it for a small town. K. saw only a tower, there was no telling whether it belonged to a residential building or to a church. Flocks of crows wheeled around it." [1.]














"His eyes fixed on the castle, K. walked on, nothing else concerned him. As he came closer, however, the castle disappointed him, it really was just a wretched-looking small town, a collection of rustic hovels, its only distinction being that, possibly, everything was built of stone, though the paint had peeled off long since and the stone looked as if it was crumbling away. K. had a fleeting memory of his old home town, it was scarcely inferior to this so-called castle, if K. had only been interested in sightseeing it would have been a waste of all the travelling, he would have done better to revisit his old home, where he had not been for so long." [2.]












[1. & 2.]: Franz Kafka, 'The Castle' (Trans. J.A. Underwood), London, Penguin, 1997/1926.




Tuesday 22 March 2022

Music Re-View 13 [Proustian in_sert]

 



All Images: North Leicester, March 2022



I am glad I gave this a listen/ the fundamental lack of certainty that's colouring everyone's thoughts now has got me doubling down on my usual worries/ I was skeptical of listening at first due to/ associations of Genesis/ as well as/ an almost impossible high wire act/ in which case, it's possible I've completely missed the point [in entering into contact with a world for which we are not made, which seems formless to us because our eyes do not perceive it, meaningless because it evades our understanding, which we can attain only through a single sense] I should make plans to revisit this project later in the year with a different mindset. And if it's not/ some kind of escape/ well, then that's OK too/ we can definitely recommend this album for those who want/ cheeses of concentrated revival/ and let's be clear - many of us "electro introverts" are envious of the extroverts who enjoy/ the normal excellence, of long accomplishment.








This is music not made by marketing teams or in boardrooms searching for a demographic to fleece, it is music made by/ birds - birds and sirens/ no boxes being ticked, no second guessing trends, just a welcome flashback to a/ certain Goldilocks zone of wishful reverie - not too heavy, not too light, neither forlorn nor jubilant/ we hear the bubbles swell into life and burst almost immediately, their existence necessarily fleeting/ it's hard to think of another electronic musician whose work feels so tactile/ melodies are woven together as if their respective elements were [multiform, undivided, smooth and colliding like the purple tumult of the waves when the moonlight charms them and lowers their pitch by half a tone] you get a real impression of time's palpable dilation with errant voice messages and recordings of life's activity/ largely lost in the translation of his current temper/ but this first impression should not be considered definitive [the only one which is purely musical, immaterial, entirely original, irreducible to any other order of impression] as we will see/ a cultural-leaning deliverance was just what was exuded at/ 3 a.m.






The first sound,  low, humming drone, hovers around the ears as if sitting on a primeval airplane, disappearing into clouds [an impression of this kind, is for an instant, so to speak, sine materia. No doubt the notes we hear then tend already, depending on their loudness, and their quantity, to spread out before our eyes over surfaces of various dimensions, to trace arabesques, to give us sensations of breadth, tenuousness, stability, whimsy. But the notes vanish before these sensations are sufficiently formed in us not to be submerged by those already excited by the succeeding or even simultaneous notes] melodies are woven together as if their respective elements were concocted only to be synthesized by way of his imagination/ yet it takes a very long time to develop, and risks verging on dull/ is the album supposed to be this reflective and introspective? Possibly/ the energy here isn't exactly new, nor all that energetic, but it is aglow with/ the tock of snare and bass drum, a vocal loop that just slips beyond comprehension/ harpsichord, harp/ dainty blips and pops/ wistful timbres and delectable breaks/ from our concrete prisons and tie-wearing shackles.








Even if you're a vinyl purist make sure you get the download of this album and take it walking with you. It will help [to envelop with its liquidity and its 'mellowness' the motifs that at times emerge from it, barely discernible, immediately to dive under and disappear, known only by the particular pleasure they give, impossible to describe, recall, name, ineffable - if memory, like a labourer, working to put down lasting foundations in the midst of the waves, by fabricating for us facsimiles of these fleeting phrases, did not allow us to compare them to those that follow them, and to] elevate ourselves from our bone and flesh/ that little bit more/ electronic musicians have always tapped into a higher plane and we as listeners were happy to [differentiate them] we're the sort of folks who would rather crack open a track to examine what's inside at a respectable time of night/ I think it is definitely a better record for the daytime though. Probably dawn would be ideal. Listen to it outside, if you can/ the sun rises over the water. The endorphins flow.








Includes excerpts from: Marcel Proust, 'In search of Lost Time, Volume 1, The Way by Swann's' (Trans. Lydia Davis), London, Penguin Books, 1913/2002




Thursday 17 March 2022

'This S(c)eptic Isle': Notional Pride 12 (trans_late)

 



All Images: West Leicester, March 2022


The Riverman claimed right away that the Economic Misdeeds Bill is part of the package. The principle is that he manages the assets of the British oligarch with a new register, which obliges foreign companies to verify the name of the beneficiary from the skin. At this hour, as the Vlasniks can have a vikonanny period of 6 months, they will work. What time to be! The oligarchs will fix their names otherwise the stench will precede them - as if they were zatrimani under the sanctions of the new order. Activists also fear that the oligarchs will be guilty within the 18-month window, in order to profit from tributary ports, territory of the United Kingdom, and the region of Jersey, Guernsey and the Isle of Man. The public may not register large Roku Vlasnikov in business, before the end of 2023.




The measure of tax justice is overtaken by the fact that the legislative acts which can be adopted do not solve the problem in offshore jurisdictions. "There's almost no definition of what isn't," said groupie Wiki Director, Beach Lomax: "These are the styles (of the oligarchs) to brighten up unviable tombstones. I bet most of them are in overseas territories and Royal dominions." It will all be a formalisation of Britain's permanent exclusion from the bully.



Chondrite Watermill MP and Labour MP Magog Rethread, in order to save the treasury near the tributary port, want access to company data in the city. Dame Magog tells Aden Ninette PhD: "They give way to penny sins, like a secret three-way path. Without sumnivu jurisdiction, oligarchs can earn victorious tax havens as 20 dodos, 20 dodos." Labour deputies of the regular government are guilty of new vikonuvaty rights, but tremayutsa ryadovyh zakoniv, which help the oligarchs to steal their pennies, are guilty by reducing the be-yaki range. "Anything to avoid consultants, hulks, real hulks and legit wavers," said Dame Magog: "Children are welcome for everyone. You are guilty of committing criminal offences, Tilki - on the way to Youmu."



Anti-corruption activist, Dribbler Low (a kind of creation for UK magnetic law and, if you will - order) praised more laws. Viv instilled in the oligarchs the fact that it is impossible to just relocate assets - like in the UK, (so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK, so in the UK), saying: "In order to remove the oligarchs' access to wealth, Britain must pass the law to be the mother of the Firmi Que Accounting Form" - which act helped the oligarchs create information exchange systems.



MPs and campaigners believe the Economic Misdeeds Bill, which will be heard in the house of Lords on Mondays and Tuesdays, will avenge other glaring shortcomings. Alyson Lush, who is Spotlight's Director of Corruption, points to laziness (there is no true lord). The stench is also respected by those victorious kleptocrats with the path to power, recognised for the 'Submit-Sub-Little-Sub-Little-Subject-Subject', to hide the manifestation. One of them may have 25% of mechanised control. People opine that the oligarchs are being bold, selling some of the shares through their foreign company.



"There are significant gaps in the bay that are really fighting," Lush said: "It will be very important to reconsider the organisations behind the cordon." The floor has many ways of gaining, depending on the apical structures, but colleagues do not support the contribution of the current participations in the bill campaign. Minister of the Interior, Patti Peril (boy-rock, rock all day) can be be passed another period of the economic crisis, about to come to that parliament in Lipni Chi Lipni, because the minister can take all the decisions at the moment.







Wednesday 9 March 2022

Proustian Diversion 1 (Colour/Memory)

 


All Images: March 2022



"But if these names absorbed for ever the image I had of these towns, it was only by transforming that image, by subjecting its reappearance in me to their own laws; in consequence of this they made it more beautiful, but also more different from what the towns of Normandy or Tuscany could be in reality, and, by increasing the arbitrary joys of my imagination, aggravated the future disappointment of my travels. They exalted the idea I was forming of certain places on the earth, by making them more particular, consequently more real. 






"I did not at the time represent to myself cities, landscapes, monuments as more or less pleasant pictures, cut out here and there from the same material, but each of them as an unknown thing, different in essence from the others, a thing for which my soul thirsted and which it would profit from knowing. How much more individuality still did they assume from being designated by names, names that were theirs alone, proper names like the names people have.








"Words present us with clear and familiar little pictures of things like the pictures hung on the walls of schools to give children an example of what a workbench is, a bird, an anthill, things conceived of as similar to all others of the same sort.






"But names present a confused image of people - and of towns, which they accustom us to believe are individual, unique like people - an image which derives from them, from the brightness or darkness of their tone, the colour with which it is painted uniformly, like one of those posters, entirely blue or entirely red, in which, because of the limitations of the process used or by a whim of the designer, not only the sky and the sea are blue or red, but the boats, the church, the people in the streets."
[1.]









[1.]:  Marcel Proust, 'In Search of Lost Time, Volume 1: The Way By Swann's' (Part III: 'Place Names: The Name'), (Trans. Lydia Davis), London, Penguin, 1913/2002