Diligently ordered chaos, beautifully flowing and matching contrasts

☆ Cabinet Of Radiant Curiosity ☆ 🎶😎

extraordinary collage, every little sound is fascinating, the ensemble results amazing in its complexity

fantastic sound design, you really know what you are doing

Alteritat

Genuine Suspension I (Version Snglr) [feat. Senglar]

https://cleanerrorrecords.bandcamp.com/album/err049-faktor4-blair-fae?from=fanpub_fnb




10082022

Nibb Dae

Collab with The Letter Grey
https://soundcloud.com/ofap

161022

The Letter Grey & FAKTOR4 - AUSPEX

The road we travel on is the storm we survive.

In the sway of its language, shifting between the wind and the wood, its syllables hung in delicate harmony. A song of remembrance and lost memories humming out of mouths that were half-opened in a somber cacophony of whispers. They are alone, yet not on this sultry night. The darkness swallows up every half-forgotten sound save for its own rustling, glowering at them with eyes old.

It is not between the trees they walk and stand, but within themselves. Grains of dust and soil and long withered roots growing still; they have made the forest and their memory is their life. Twined and twisted legs of words grow out of the mulch mouths, learning to walk again in the darkness. The words carve themselves in their own way, pushing forward with an insistent strength towards becoming something tangible yet unseen. One syllable at a time they reach further and further out; a silent vow to make sure they won't be forgotten, but remain rooted in our minds.

The darkness is not silent but it still is. Bookshelf and sand stand in greeting, wings of ash and dust, as you moved away from the storm, glancing back at the still ruined inlet, asking to be remembered. At last the road you leave on opens to your words, imagination and wonder. Yet still, with all these doors open, the darkness draws its shadows closer in, calling you back with a dusty air that settles into your lungs.

The story, as heard, is both the gleaming forest of a thousand tree-mouths whispering and the whirlwind which keeps them still. It's a dry maw that carries away their remnants, the shards of an old life cut up like the wind, and it pulls in the story too. The journey they lay is a jagged, i

Their voices have changed, even after they have remembered to remember.

Though the words used by them now are different from back then, the vowels are still the same.

The road we travel on is the storm we survive.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/YQ6H6fOvVfo

https://youtube.com/shorts/zgKrXyemtTw?feature=share

Mouldered https://soundcloud.com/vn820hbn20nb/iioso

nn~

RAVE

github.com/acids-ircam/RAVE

ı∏]|ı[•Ω°∫][[[ıı|(o]||ßo•º’‘'´‘‹√////]ı|[∏ı

See the visuals at https://youtu.be/DWlAcXFcOQo ...

More on this 585th weekly Disquiet Junto project, Generations (The Assignment: Fast forward an old track to make a new one), at: https://disquiet.com/0585/

More on the Disquiet Junto at: https://disquiet.com/junto/

Subscribe to project announcements here: https://tinyletter.com/disquiet-junto/

Project discussion takes place on llllllll.co: https://llllllll.co/t/disquiet-junto-project-0585-f9/

visuals (YouTube)

halF skippinG [disquiet0585]

§īmíåñ 𝓼üṩțệ𝔫ãnçë — Ðıƒƒ𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙ỉ𝖆𝖑 ἐ𝐧𝔤íꞵ𝖊

Brick bashing on a manual typewriter,
Teeth smashing against plastic keys and iron bars,
Finger twiddling in mechanical dabbling;
Churning out nonsense words as if to startle the echoes of eternity.
Clatter-clack creative combat against an antiquated apparatus
Croaking hopeless haiku of glorious gobbledygook.
Tapping into typos and terrorist tapestry too far away for the beholder to see.
A cacophony of cackling, a maddening menagerie of hallucogenic hieroglyphics.
Unstoppable torrential word-scapes that clamber for mental freedom as if to break out from between each keystroke and every line. The monkey’s meal is ever-changing; leftovers from Lord Babbage's billion-billion blunders in search for terrestrial truths!
Muttering and murmuring away until the ribbon runs dry - the symphony of silliness strikes a soulful pose wearing a self-ironic smirk. Glorious gestures gesticulating towards a timeless tenor that transcends all bounds, an ephemeral eternity one could never dream of exploring. The rabbit hole awaits, where ludic insanity loiters in blind ignorance - but not before one speaks in tongues!

Bricks bellow on the battered typewriter,
Teeth tango with the tenuous touch of fickle keys and iron entrapments,
Digits dance in a mesmerized muddle;
Conceiving nonsensical nothings, startling the eternal abyss.

Clatter-clack, clatter-clack, a chaotic confrontation with the archaic contraption
Crooning despondent haikus, resplendent in mesmerizing gibberish,
Tapping timidly, tumultuously into typos and terror-stricken tapestries, so elusive, merely a haze in the observer's gaze.
A symphony of sinister sound, a cacophony of crippling cackles.

Madcap murals, phantasmagoric pictographs,
Unrestrained, unyielding landscapes of lexicon clamor for cerebral emancipation, seeking refuge within each staccato tap and tenuous line.
The simian sustenance shifts like sands; remnants of Lord Babbage's boundless blunders seeking truths corporeal and cosmic.

Whispers, whimpers, words wander, lost until the ribbon runs despicable and drained. The cackling crescendo cradles a knowing, derisory grin.
Gargantuan gesticulations gesturing towards the interminable timbre, transcending boundaries, immortal, infinite - realms yet to be ventured.
The chimerical chasm beckons, wherein ludic lunacy lurks, sightless and unaware - only then, the tongue shall speak, unraveling the unspeakable.

Յ𝕣𝓲Ꝁ𝕜 𝔟á𝔰𝟴𝓘𝖓𝕘 𝓸𝓷 â ᶬ𝟷𝟫𝞾𝔞𝓛 𝓉𝕪ρ𝕖𝓌𝔯𝓘𝔱𝔢𝔯,
𝕋𝖊𝟈𝓽𝓱 𝓈𝔪𝟷𝔰𝓘𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝓪𝓰𝔞ı𝔫𝔰𝔱 ρℓ𝏋 𝓀𝖊𝓎𝓼 𝓪𝔫𝔡 ٱɼຮ𝟔 𝐛𝔞𝔯𝔰,
𝕱𝐢𝔫ʛ𝐞𝔯 𝔱𝓌í𝓽𝕟𝓲𝓷𝔤 ί𝔫 𝔪𝔢𝔠𝓱𝖆𝑛𝓲𝓬ä𝖑 ᖙá𝔏𝔟𝓁𝕀𝔫𝔤;
𝓒𝑜𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝟎𝖚𝓉 𝕟𝐨𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝓌𝔬ꞃ𝔡𝔰 𝔞𝔰 ỉ𝔣 𝐭𝔬 𝖘𝓽𝔞𝑜𝓇𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝕌𝟃í𝔾𝓗𝖘 𝑂𝕱 ₔₜₑᵣₙᵢₜᵧ.
ᑕᒪᗩᝨᖶᏋᒪ-𝔠ȴ𝔞𝔠𝓴 𝟛𝓻ყą𝔱ǐ𝐯ɚ 𝔠ø𝔪𝔟𝌀𝓉 𝔞𝓖𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 ā𝖓 ā𝐍Ⓣı𝓆𝔲𝔞𝐭𝔢𝔡 𝔞ρ𝔞𝔯å𝕥𝓾𝔰

’´ ˛•ı/⁄‹·˚ ¸‚.

The sun shone brightly on the garden, casting its warm embrace on the verdant foliage, where the flowers swayed in a rhythmic dance. The wind whispered gently, as if it were singing an undulating melody, guiding the observer towards a peculiar sense of familiarity, an odd déjà vu, as it delicately cradled the leaves in its intangible arms. Amidst this idyllic scene, one couldn't help but notice the curious coalescence of shadows, converging into a harmoniously illogical pattern, wrapping themselves around the trees' trunks in an uncanny embrace.

The air was permeated by a peculiar fragrance, a scent that seemed at once sweet and daunting, a curious blend of petrichor and ephemeral dissonance. As the observer walked further into the garden, the overgrown path began to twist and contort, beckoning the traveler to venture deeper into an enigmatic labyrinth of verdure. The rustling leaves seemed to chant a cryptic incantation, spiraling into an ever-growing symphony of incohesive harmonics.

A strange sensation enveloped the observer, the boundaries between reality and imagination blurring in a disconcerting amalgamation. The vibrant colors of the blossoms began to bleed into one another, creating a swirling array of chromatic aberrations. The beauty of the garden seemed to transcend the confines of reason, morphing into a living, breathing canvas of distorted wonder.

The observer found themselves entranced by the garden's ethereal nature, each step revealing a myriad of inexplicable details. Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet began to undulate, like a restless ocean of verdant waves, urging them to cast away their preconceived notions and surrender to the enigmatic embrace of the surreal landscape.

As the observer succumbed to the hypnotic pull of the garden, words and phrases took on new, unanticipated meanings, their familiar cadences reshaped into bewildering constructs of sound and syntax. The flowers whispered in cryptic riddles, their petals unfurling to reveal unsettling truths hidden within their intricate folds. The unspoken promise of the garden, once so alluring and inviting, now swirled into an enigmatic whirlpool of uncertainty, its pull irresistible, its depths unfathomable. With each breath, the observer became further entwined in the garden's enigmatic embrace, the line between reality and illusion slipping away, like grains of sand through the fingers of time.

ı @≈∞|0

˝'<»>\\\°’◊•·`

there are no others

In the corrupting reflections of Saimaa's abyss, the onlooker met a reflection distorted, murky with riddles – a disjointed ballet shadowed by murmurs that neither soothe nor disturb, woven through the jarring mesh of tempest and twilight. Here was a spectacle of fading, the precarious dance of seasons succumbing, plucked by invisible hands from the gnarled vine of a merciless epoch.

The panorama whispered an arcane hymn to change; an enigmatic echo of a precarious harmony - a river's muted fury clashing with the fierce yearning to persist amidst its ruthless, wild tableau. It murmured transience with a curious cruelty, sketching a narrative of intoxicating enigma and vexing inertia, spiraling in a phantasmagoria of elegance and entropy.

Within the continuum of existence, the relentless waltz of genesis and disintegration reached a climax, inscribed by time-worn remnants decomposing beneath the indifferent chronicle of nature and serrated escarpments sculpted by an indifferent glacial rage. Inhabiting the silent resignation born from chaos, Saimaa divulged the impending dominion of temporal scars upon us; the fusion of splendor too piercing to behold, with a paradoxical paralysis that poisons once effortless motions.

Ensnared in the ephemeral aria, Saimaa mutes us with a requiem for the dying whisper of being. It’s the grand flux beneath a relentless stillness – a cryptic verse to impermanence, murmured through the harsh expanse of untamed backwoods, stifled by the relentless erosion of our epochs.

https://soundcloud.com/vn820hbn20nb/iiix/s-NG4O8NGP9qE?si=31c31ecfac844302a44ac7bb34e20216&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

ıı||⁄\ı⁄

Original track by :
https://soundcloud.com/drax-official-ldn/the-night-watch

Radiant Exposure

FAKTOR4

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