Dienstag, 1. Mai 2012


Turning around, into the abyss. I'm missing the words. A building cannot spin, it cannot turn. A city is no planet, a room is not a universe. How can I conceive it turning, spinning, over and over again? I'm not drunk, I'm not drugged, I'm asleep. It is a dream, a natural hallucination.

It leaves me speechless. The floor is twisiting underneath my feet and the entire city is drifting in circles, constantly moving and yet solid at the same time. Every idea in my head is very "clean", very neat. I'm the observer,  riding the rollercoaster. The walls are like water and the earth is a river; flowing when I'm asleep, frozen as I wake up.

This morning I scored the beginning of "4:48 Psychosis" by Sarah Kane. My briefing contained the words "earth", "simple", "clean". The right moment, the right dream, the right idea and I played it in a one take recording. How can music be constructed, when it's already right there, inside you?


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