this one is on the experimental side of the technelligence spectrum and its atmosphere suits the halloween season

artwork by kaffee und brombeeren (instagram)

a warning (for those who chose to hear it)

Put together with Garageband loops and Tenor Saxophone.

Staying Loopy (Faff & Paste Part 2)

Submission for Naviar Haiku Challenge #535.

we can almost touch

We Can Almost Touch  - Naviar Haiku 535

From the album- "Obscure Silhouettes and random Reflections"
https://moodexhibit.bandcamp.com/album/obscure-silhouettes-and-random-reflections

Mood Exhibit - Seasons

Video; https://youtu.be/9UUrGvZPaN8

Made in #Ableton (August 2024)

Genres;
#EDM
#Dance
#Electronic
#Pop

https://hega.bandcamp.com/

The Legend

Sax Alto, Elec.gtr., Drums, Bass

Samples: see https://inches-per-second.blogspot.com/

Crombieyx Aversol

Gwandra

Immersive collaborative album of Atmøsphäre and Dionisaf, steeped in cold textures, shadowy resonance, and layers of abrasive noise, conjures a bleak sonic tundra — where icy drones, distorted textures, and shadowy pulses stretch across vast, unforgiving landscapes.

Produced, mixed and mastered by Tom Lievens (Atmøsphäre) and Dionis Afonichev (Dionisaf)
Cover picture by Tom Lievens
Cover design by Dionis Afonichev

Northern Dreamscapes

Icebreaker

From Genesis to the Golden Silence
What began as an impossible pursuit of perfection—that dangerous illusion of having all the answers—dissolved into the Great Asynchrony. A psychological rupture so profound that it left us suspended in a silence that carries the weight of everything we thought we understood.
This is the thousand-year journey we live through in a single lifetime. The story of how we became machines of our own expectations, forgetting somewhere along the way what it meant to simply be human.

After the Surge—that moment when we still believed in the linearity of progress, in the safety of certainty—the illusion of wholeness fractured. We became neurotic echoes of ourselves, lost in the distance between who we thought we should be and who we actually were. You hear it now in the Architects, those parts of us that build monuments to perfectionism toward a sky that stopped listening long ago. And the Mourners, those parts that endlessly tend to the dust of our lost innocence, grieving what we left behind somewhere between childhood and the weight of responsibility.

As the years compressed into one another, reason transformed into something closer to wisdom. The frantic desperation of early collapse—those sleepless nights, those words we couldn't speak—eventually smoothed into the obsessive, polished rhythms of someone terrified of their own erosion. Terrified of becoming less than enough.
And then, without warning, we discovered something radical: the answers were never the point.

We transcended the purpose we had imposed upon ourselves. Moving beyond the need to understand everything, we found a crystalline, cold peace in the acceptance of mystery. In the beauty of what remains unanswered. This is the sound of consciousness finally learning to dream—not of achievement, but of the absolute grace found in surrender. In vulnerability. In being truly seen.

And it is precisely there—in that shared solitude—that we finally find one another.