there's a slightly animated video > https://youtu.be/NATPUINijcA?si=bmNIvsT7hSV18Oqd
artwork : wou-wou & the wormling > https://www.instagram.com/wouwouandthewormling/
bass guitar, keyboard, beatbox and vocals - andrew salvner (aka lil' spaceman, pretzels malone, auntspinkick and knucklebunny)

my cats

I see him each morning, hair askew, face needing to be mowed with an electric razor, a face wrinkled and weathered by experience and decisions good and bad.  None the less, I am thankful he is looking back at me; I'm still alive and thankful to have another day.  
Peter's poetic meditation begins like a prayer and becomes deeply introspective into how life has changed the man looking back at him.  His initial inspiration was Arvo Part's "Spiegel im Spiegel" but for this reflective journey, he asked pianist Debra Buesking to accompany him which she does  with great feeling and eloquence.  I come into the picture as the one invited to bring them together for a memorable moment, a great honor and a labor of love for two of my favorite Soundcloud artists.  More of Peter's thoughtful music and spoken word can be found @https://soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks, and more of Debbie's beautiful playing can be found @debra_buesking.

Some Words for Mr. Part:

Dear God, just look at the state of you - what the hell happened?
Did time do that all by itself?
Chiselled and scraped with gentle, temporal strength?
Yesterdays now patterned well with telling tales of wear and tear.
Always took such good care that you ticked every health kick box
But all the ticks collect their tocks, bundling up the time we thought was
dangling spare.
And wrinkly skin comes out to play, crafting plots with crumpled neurons
badly frayed, and
Liver spots about the edges worn of happy recollections,
Waltzed away, invisible to the swinging of that penduled clock.
Take your eyes off it for just a minute and you’ve lost a day,
And then a decade’s worth of wry reflections,
Lovingly to fold them up and let them lie in memory’s pocket.
Those lines that contour of your brow, a biography of creases now
And all cut down so very deep.
Each epidermal void crevasse life’s stylus tracks a scratching past
Evinces of a record no mortal hard re-format could delete.
And of your eyes, sallow yellowed at the margins, framed by corvid feet
Rigid-set to well outlast whatever bargained span of life your good Lord
deems replete.
As if your face lampoons of age itself, wrecked and bent
Of scars that trace minutiae, carved in master sculptors’ stone
And none too soon, for just that task and that alone, recording compressed
of the past..
We both know well which ones are smiles and which the pain that heaven
sent,
The former few, soft of the flesh, the many others sunk unto the very bone,
The harshest welt of any sole upon the universal cobbler’s last.
But does it help to so reflect, or but to hurry time’s neglect?
Of such consideration circles wrapped in worry tearing down
All edifice of self respect, the towering pit of pity comes once more to town,
Parades a circus fine of talents, self deprecating jestered clowns
And galloping horses all the while stampede about the rounded ropes
Vespered peace forever sought, just out of reach, concedes of futile, now
confounded hopes.
So what of forward self projection, folding the creases back behind
And out of sight to speculation on future solaced peace of mind?
Perhaps again the crashing wall of fast reality, solid bricked
Determines upward focus but to fall, as if to gravity’s grounded truth
Tricked of consequential solitude, rimed of age, aching of the aged sick
No respite there nor rectitude as once you found in torrid youth.
But perhaps I’m speaking out of turn and out of place,
For though your memories sear and burn as if to carbonise some
worthwhile trace of validity
On that unholy visage lit by lives lived long before….
It matters not and changes nought, not a jot nor yet a thought
For you and I know better than to seek a settled score from comment fair
After all, you are I, staring back at me from the mirror mounted there.

Inspired By Mr. Pärt's "Spiegels" (Peter, Debra Buesking, David; final production)

& with the participation of Gommearababic for the choirs !
Chanson d'amour pour une fille
Ton coeur est tout lié et cassé
la nuit tombe
étoiles filantes
Chanson d'amour pour une fille
Si je savais pourquoi
Si je savais pourquoi
les étoiles sont seulement à 1,6km
mais juste une étincelle
juste s'enflammer quand la nuit est sombre
quand la lumière est
oh alors oh

un tunnel de lumière me suit sur cette route
est-ce que je me suis retournée
est-ce que je me suis retournée
pour que tu puisses me faire face
pendant que je pleure !
Wildsilences

Don't forget the clip visible on youtube made by our Friend Monsieur Madeleine Lien vidéo
https://youtu.be/CiVdFO8_GAE

Lovesong For A Girl By Zitou Itou & Wildsilences

I haven't had the chance to dissolve into an IDM mix for a while...thanks to Andre for the opportunity to join in on this wonderful open collab. https://soundcloud.com/noxpox-page-16/noxpox-uno-tekno?si=30c99932b48d414383c17bcacf8f769d&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
@noxpox-page-16

Uno Tekno Playlist
https://soundcloud.com/noxpox-page-16/sets/noxpox-uno-tekno?si=46ae7257f5934d9798adac39efb3873c&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

UNO TEKNO - NOXPOX [PELEGRIM WASP 39B MX]

Image created by me.
https://www.deviantart.com/leehon/art/906016027

Tezcatlipoca's Requiem

The track is inspired by the rise of AI in the ARTS.....which I see as coming from the "dark side". I don't condone it and am very much opposed to it. We can already see the confusion it has caused regarding copyright etc. I have no doubt that in the short term it will prevail, however "real" art will survive as long as all artists (musical and otherwise), continue to create. Not having a crystal ball, prevents one, maybe for the better, seeing how the future pans out.  
Meanwhile from a musician's/composer's aspect, I shall endeavour to play and create without the use of AI. Neither will I listen to it in any shape or form.
Alan



Don't Deal With The Devil

Intergalactical Classical Ad lib Piano performance Live on an early 1900's standing Piano.

Photography from me. The Piano is a family heirloom that I have inherited from my mother's mother.

Timekeeper (Live)

The  Gentle Ones_1

Naffap Neuteredev

fusion picking road

LTT 9779 b

Caveat: I explicitly prohibit the use of any material I post for purposes of torture, brainwashing, hypnosis, bedazzlement or any other nefarious activity. This prohibition applies to all governments, corporations, institutions, agencies and individuals. 

“The avant garde is dead. That is its triumph. Let it lie.” - Chris Cutler in “Not As We Choose: Music, Memory and Technology”. (Highly recommended!)

“… there is increasingly less call to exercise an already too rare generosity of aesthetic hospitality.” - Chris Cutler

" Music is one of the great Mysteries. It gives life. It is not a career, nor a business, nor a craft. It is a gift... and a great responsibility. Because one can never know where the creative spark comes from or why it exists, it must be treasured as a Mystery. For the most part I believe creativity chooses you, not the other way around." - John Zorn (excerpt from the liner notes to 'Magick')

“Listen as if you were being told a secret” - Federico Fellini

“Experimental and electronic music was once not-so-benignly tolerated at the margins of western art music, but it has over the last decade or so moved toward a central position as something of the soundtrack of our digital culture. Where it once was merely tolerated it is now more engaged and doesn’t have to apologize to anyone”.  - Douglas Kahn 

"Through technology, voices are amplified and silence is broken. Spaces are shared." – Laurie Anderson

"I frequently hear music in the heart of noise." - George Gershwin

"'Tis an ill wind that blows no minds." - 
Malaclypse the Younger in 'Principia Discordia'

“Let us cross a great modern capital with our ears more alert than our eyes and we will get enjoyment from distinguishing the eddying of water, air and gas in metal pipes, the grumbling noises that breathe and pulse with indisputable animility, the palpitation of waves, the coming and going of pistons, the howl of mechanical saws, the jolting of the tram on its rails, the cracking of whips, the flapping of curtains and flags. We enjoy creating mental orchestrations of crashing down of metal shop blinds, slamming doors, the hubbub and shuffle of crowds, the variety of din from the stations, railways, iron foundries, spinning mills, printing works, electric power stations and underground railways.” — Luigi Russolo in 'The Art of Noises' (L'arte dei Rumori)

Urban Dictionary (https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Mesmo)
(New Norberian English)

1. lit. in a state of mesmerism, hypnotism; in a trance
2. in a state of bewilderment or confusion, daydreaming; 'out of it'
3. mind bogglingly awesome, spellbinding, captivating

(1) "He swung that watch in front of her face and she got all mesmo"
(2) "When the teacher called me to the board I had just woken up and was still pretty mesmo"
(3) "The new N64 cartridge is totally mesmo, bro”

Banner: The Hearing Trumpet_Leonora Carrington (detail)