Dark indeed, as was the deed done to humanity. Excellent work!!!!!

love the bells chiming!! with the guitar very cool!!!

This most unfortunate moment in the history of our planet is an excellent opportunity to hunker down and create like mad. Periods of time to compose and record are hard to find so it's time to make some lemonade and hide in our bunkers. Mine is fortified like never before... let the games begin!

Quarantine-A Global Conundrum

Рассвет над скотобойней

Themes From Forgotten Films Vol 2:Vilniaus Arkikaredra

For G
*DISCLAIMER:
I own no rights to this track; uploaded for entertainment and listening purposes only.


Forbidden colours

Marco Lucchi : piano and electric tanpura

aeolian meditation

2025-11-28

the moon touched the earth

Hundred of Lysosome stations throughout the cell recycle waste molecules and proteins into building blocks for new proteins.

aleatoric
free time

Lots of samples from NI's Kore2 library Sonic Fiction
Samples of bubbles from unknown source
2 x Massive X synths (Native Instruments)
1 x Kore Player (Native Instruments, disfunctional now)
1 x Kontakt Multi sampler, with 7x Microbiology by Sampleism.
1x Echobode Pitch Delay, by Sonic Charge

Some processed effects done in Ableton 9
General assembly in FL 12.5

Hybrid Symphony Nr°5 - Cellular City

Lysosoma Code Recyling

Lysosoma Code Recycling

The hiss of the old tape introduces a world both familiar and alien. The tape's imperfections add a layer of texture creating a soundscape shaped by memory and erosion. The sound is haunting, not in the sense of fear, but in the way it evokes a sense of loss. The aural landscape is immediately apparent: an open window and the music is playing. As the tape continues, the listener can begin to pick out specific sounds. The conversations of children, the rhythmic clatter of a passing vehicle. The open window becomes a portal, a gateway between the interior and the exterior, the private and the public. The tape runs on, the hiss a constant companion. The open window remains a constant presence and the music becomes a supplement of the narrative. The recording ends, leaving the listener suspended in time. 

From an Old Tape

Starting a Fire

2025-12-08

thorny path

Incident On Deck Forty-Three


Through the black dome, CyDar watched as Hurford, R.J. #34-4563 and McCullen, J.M. #37-9863 arrived on the Lighthouse command deck together. Their files indicated a previous relationship. CyDar calculated that humans with an emotional bond would be an advantage.

Jamilah McCullen checked the Situation Log.

“There’s an incident logged just over eight hours ago, appears to be an impact of significance seven but no details. Odd.”

Rob Hurford was scanning Engineering and Communication logs. “Several electrical and control systems have been automatically locked out and re-routed. That would suggest a hull breach. But there’s nothing major in the environment log, only a blip around the same time… suggests momentary tremor in a small area. CyDar, can you clarify?”

The black dome pulsed with light from an internal LED. “Good morning, Captains Hurford and McCullen. I hope your revival has no negative indicators.” The voice was deep and feminine.

“Aside from feeling like a two-day-old hangover, no,” said Jamilah. “Please report on the situation. The log is strangely deficit in detail.”

“Admin Directive seven five three one states that two officers will be revived and will attend the command deck at regular intervals. Sequencing is random.”

Rob checked another log. “This is not a regular interval. Human watch isn’t scheduled for nearly another week. And Captain McCullen has already served two watches on this tour. What about this incident report?”

“Your tone indicates displeasure.”

“More like surprise. I’m surprised that an apparent level seven impact - a possible hull breach - hasn’t generated more than a margin note in the logs. Aren’t you surprised, CyDar?”

“It is… unanticipated.” There was a pause, uncomfortable by human standards, geological in computer terms. “I can gather no further data. All feeds from the affected area are dead.”

“Are the feeds cut or blocked?”

“Unable to confirm.”

“Rob, we need to recce this, now.” Jamilah opened a locker and took out two pressure suits. They were designed for traversing vacuum-affected areas in a gravity-positive vessel, not for deep space work, so weren’t much harder to don and work in than a jump suit. Since the Lighthouse was largely automated or inert, most of it was unpressurised. Breathable air was too valuable a resource to fill a whole station, and it was corrosive. Their reservoirs held an hour of air and could be refilled from points throughout the station. She passed one to Rob, brushing her hand against his. “I’m glad it’s you. I’ve missed you.”

He nodded. “Me too, you look great when you’ve just woken up.” They finished suiting up and she gave the cut-throat signal to leave their comms turned off. They pressed their faceplates together so that the suits could conduct sound.

“CyDar is being evasive. What do you make of it?”

“Not sure. The logs are generated in real time. I suppose they could have been tampered with. She doesn’t seem to be fully aware of the cause. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” They kissed through the carbonate faceplates and turned their comms on.

“Testing comms and video feed. Are you receiving us,  CyDar?”

“Affirmative, Captain Hurford. Full signal strength verified.”

“Wish us luck.”

“Hopefully so unreliable a system of chance will not be required, Captain McCullen.”

“Amen to that, CyDar.”


to be continued......

(c) iamacamera 2022

Image: Lexica.art

Incident On Deck Forty-Three: Part 1

Peaceful Melancholy - Shelter In Place

Virology - Fluid Dynamics

We all seem to have more time on our hands to create so here is another in the Quarantine Series. This one may evolve a bit yet...

Tehran - The Pandemic Behind The Veil

Wuhan - The Fog Of Ground Zero

Cell phone data taken from a small cluster of Spring Break revelers on a small portion of a Florida beach showed the blooming of an outbreak as the phones moved throughout the country. Party on!

Viral Diaspora - Waves Of Transmission

Squidwerks aka Greg Heimbecker is a Northern Colorado based recording engineer, sometimes saxophonist & longtime fan of music across many genres. I have a particular soft spot for ambient music in the tradition of the "great bald one" Brian Eno. As my SoundCloud develops there will be collections of my engineering efforts as well as a section of ambient music composed and performed by myself and a few of my close friends over the past 30 years or so...(be sure to check out https://soundcloud.com/nine-horse-johnson!) enjoy!

And if you're in the mood to check out one of the finest university jazz programs in North America point your ears over to https://soundcloud.com/uncjazz to check out more of my work for the University of Northern Colorado Jazz Studies Department!

Wuhan - The Fog Of Ground Zero

Squidwerks

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