Observing our own personal noise or hopelessness, might allow us to spy beyond the screen where the spectacle of our achievements unfolds, spotting the lens of the projector in the distance. And perhaps, in a moment of terrifying grace, we might even be able to see also beyond the projector, stealing a brief glance at the projectionist – thin and curved inside their cabin. Alone beyond loneliness, since they never met anything other than their lenses and the images traversing the screen. At peace beyond peacefulness, and thus shaken restless by melancholia. This is the self to whom noise and sound, distraction and concentration, bodies and weights, appear as children equal in rights. A non-lucid dreamer who forgot if he ever was awake, if anything ever existed outside his dream. The self, seeking a way out of its slumber by sinking deeper into its own sleep. The self who ultimately writes, and about whom we cannot write. (Federico Campagna, Bodies and Weights)

campagna

metallic fool

title drawn from echoes of a natural world, 47; still is from no such thing

mind fills gaps to avoid fear & establish coherence

hustle work new flesh

before

thick present

nobody can answer the questions i want answered

dynamic anatomy ft. alex

weird fate

what the rain promises

// walking down the hallway hands covered in ink touching walls tracing my outline it keeps changing it is not mine nothing is mine //

1.) something i made - untitled
2.) into the water - avatar (2) soundtrack
3.) falling forever - TJD & quit life
4.) black hair - jerskin fendrix
5.) stay with me - novelist
6.) HIGHLOW - lord byron
7.) this magic moment - the drifters
8.) come to me - björk
9.) cansado - iuqeta
10.) cutting room floor - improvised interlude
11.) intuition - feist

madskerby

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