Name: Tell From Personal Experience by Mystique Wind in Game inside the Game
Duration: 4 min 28 s
Description: Talk only about what you experienced yourself. Any lie deceives its creator

Beautiful piece 😍 🙏 🍀 🎶 🎧 

Having discovered the game within the game, I got carried away by looking at this phenomenon. If there is a game within the game, there is probably another one outside. An infinite nested series of events within another infinite series. Upon closer examination, it turns out that everything is one whole, and the multitudes multiply by the forces of our mind, trying to grasp infinity.

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Game inside the Game

Original Score inspired by the Jeremy Robert Johnson novel The Loop

The Absence is coming - It felt like the truth

Withdrawal – Part II

Game Inside The Game

Buy me a bud🌱

Navigating through an infinite number of options is a complex art. But we'll have to master it if we don't want to stay where we are.

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Navigation In Endless Variants

Snake people know the healing properties of poisons better than anyone.

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People Of Snake

Medicine is everywhere. This is the focus of the love of this world.

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Primal Medicine

Talk only about what you experienced yourself. Any lie deceives its creator

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Tell From Personal Experience

Red Planet

TRIIB - Mercury Hearts

Noise is Noise(and not fade away)

Wilfried Hanrath -- Noise is Noise(and not fade away)

"The Land Of Silence" was commissioned by and is dedicated to Kimberley Lynch & Adrian Foster, who gave the work its first performance on 30 May 2021 in a concert broadcast from the majestic church of Saints-Anges Gardiens de Lachine in Montréal, Canada. 

The work is a setting for amplified soprano, live electronics & organ of the 1896 poem 'Beata Solitudo' by Ernest Dowson (1867 - 1900).

Beata Solitudo

What land of Silence,
   Where pale stars shine
On apple-blossom
   And dew-drenched vine,
   Is yours and mine?

The silent valley
   That we will find,
Where all the voices
   Of humankind
   Are left behind.

There all forgetting,
   Forgotten quite,
We will repose us,
   With our delight
   Hid out of sight.

The world forsaken,
   And out of mind
Honour and labour,
   We shall not find
   The stars unkind.

And men shall travail,
   And laugh and weep;
But we have vistas
   Of gods asleep,
   With dreams as deep.

A land of Silence,
   Where pale stars shine
On apple-blossoms
   And dew-drenched vine,
   Be yours and mine!

THE LAND OF SILENCE (2021)

24Jan21

Experimenting with Cthonicist's free to download generative beat;
https://soundcloud.com/irena-svetlovska/generative-beat
:D

Silver Star [Cthonicist / Boson Spin collab]

Vinter

Merci à Ownowl https://soundcloud.com/ownowl pour le partage de sa si belle musique avec moi.

Comme un ciel d’orage posé sur ma mémoire
Le sombre gris-bleuté du toit qui m’abritait
Les veines de la roche affleurant les sentiers
Poudrés de ses éclats arrachés aux entrailles
Des galeries creusées à coup de dynamite
Dans de sourds grondements qui ébranlaient mes nuits
Et les buttes sauvages
Des rebuts de ce schiste

Et les hommes fantômes aux lanternes cyclope
Qui crachaient leurs poumons pour mériter de vivre

Et puis, et puis…

La douceur des printemps sur ces buttes maudites
Parsemées de lichens et de l’or des genêts
Et puis les promenades où sa main me guidait
Lorsque nous traversions des ronces labyrinthiques
Qu’il me disait le nom de toutes les choses à voir
Et retenait mon pas pour gravir les montagnes
De cette ardoise tiède qui glissait, s’effritait

De cette odeur têtue des lilas sauvages
Surgis des interstices d’un sol chaotique
Où la nuit les lapins de garenne dansaient

Berceau de ma naissance
Posé sur ma mémoire

frenglish translation:
Like a stormy sky over my memory
The dark bluish gray of the roof that sheltered me
The veins of the rock flush with the paths
Powdered with shards torn from the bowels
Galleries dug with dynamite
In muffled rumblings that shook my nights
And the wild hills
Scraps of this shale

And the ghost men with the cyclops lanterns
Who spat their lungs out to deserve to live

And then, and then ...

The sweetness of spring on these cursed hills
Strewn with lichens and the gold of the broom
And then the walks where his hand guided me
When we walked through labyrinthine brambles
That he told me the names of all the things to see
And held back my step to climb the mountains
From this warm slate that was slipping, crumbling.

And that stubborn smell of wild lilacs
Rise from the cracks of a chaotic ground
Where the wild rabbits danced at night


Cradle of my birth
Placed on my memory

Berceau - Ownowl & Luciole Langevine

十分に悪い

Музыка, которая штырит
Trippy Ambient Music for real researchers

Tell From Personal Experience

Mystique Wind

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