Step forward with one foot, For the rest of your days. And the money isn’t good. Let the tea soak for a moment; The red stands still. It grows within cold skin, Mouth, and unresponsive eyes. The soil below is covered with a layer of tall grasses, Each clump out of view.

It is the year’s circles sprouting and growing, The height twisting and expanding outwards again. Forests live in your garden And several can be seen Sitting under a parasol, Trying to reverse the energy’s flow. The glass shop fronts hum softly And the empty houses sleep While the energy is preserved In the attic of cold wet wood.

Time is asleep; Rest with cloudy mind and single point of focus for four minutes. The city’s bricks rotted away Into multi-chromatic eyes. Then focus finally settles on The hoses laid out Red, blue, green and yellow.

The next scene opens with shambling Red shoes, Outstretched towards honey, A soft steady fall in filter-bag cloth; A body woven out of rubber bands Is unable to stand, While a food processor emits a bouncy steady rhythm Made the motor hum, And the melodies develop and Carry the action to its conclusion. I always worry where I’m going to sleep.

Suddenly a soft breeze seems to blow Between the massive buildings; The white noise of the line Becomes a monotonous drone, Ruled over by the rising and falling tones. You don’t even notice when it stops, The noise is gone, But no one seems to be surprised by this, And you forget how you ever communicated before. The sound of silence is like a locomotive Rolling through the room. The soft hiss of cables breaking Makes you wonder what the hell is going on.

It is an obsession That grows out of the fragmenting nature of cheap smiles; The soap-opera appeals to the lowest common denominator, While the landscape feels like it is Crumbling.

The sun hangs low And A galaxy of stars Shines through A car window. The colors reflect Off of your skin. Your smile glows. The sound of blown grass Rains down on the scene That will be in the next show.

It’s the Taste of Candy colors, Which is all that remains In a blank slate And a fresh start. The memories may fade, But their colors remain, Glaring in their brightness And Frustration.

my food processor emits a bouncy steady rhythm.. It' boring

My contribution for the Darksiders Summer Playlist 2022.

Lyrics: 

Sandstein, der in Wärme strahlt
und die Nacht in Ocker malt.

Sandstein, der mich heimwärts trägt,
Schritte vor Gedanken legt.

Sandstein

「紫」をイメージして作りました！！
（made with the image of purple）

thank you for listening！！

DAW: Cubase pro 12

the violet

Visions Of Frail Light

Image created by me.
https://www.deviantart.com/leehon/art/Lurid-Conjecture-903826639

Cruel Curiosity

Johanna Vargas, soprano
Ensemble Linea
Carolina Santiago Martinez, piano
Keiko Murakami, flute contrebasse
Louis Siracusa, double bass
Jean-Philippe Würtz, conductor

IV. Gradual Abruptness
ooo –– ooo –– oo –– o 
gradual abruptness 
french 		(mr., rhythm acuto intros.) 
ital 		(riposante musica, ritmo meno acuto, adattabile)   
                 o                   –– 
non avete da mostrarmi un’altra macchina? (repeat rhythm) 

[…]

(– oooooooo – )

[…]

tu pensi:   
 –  o o  –  o o o  – o o o  –  o 
ha una macchina ancora da mostrarmi? 

Un poco di buon ordine feroce
Aspettare in tempo

	Évidemment

		si tu ne peux
Poétiser
	il te faudra
Cohabiter
Rime e accenti allineati
Évidemment 
Si tu ne peux
		analyser
Il te faudra
		coaliser
Io vado di solito a letto alle undici
o – o o – o o – oo – oo
La poésie du succès 
Le succès du sexu

Bisogna sfruttare i buoni momenti
o – oo – oo – oo – o
– o oo – o ooooo –

Autumn is a season of which I am very fond [about]

Regarde
Au moins
Ce qui est
Écrit
Sur le bout
De ta langue chérie
In nous faudra
Que tu y vas
(synthèse-douleur)
tu parles en prose  

V. Allons, plongeons
Allons, plongeons dans le réel (il le faut)
l’Esthétique Jaune dans son lit de Mort 
l’Esthétique Jeune dans son Lit Subtil
ou bien  
Nous sommes 
[dans son lit de la mort subtile
dans le lit de son jeune mort
dans la mort du lit du son
dans le son subtil de la jeune mort] 
 
(dans la gaze de la réalité). 
Nous passons dans la gaze du réel. 
Arrive l’enfer. L’impératif 
de la[…]
[…]réalité
(nous sommes en communication).

4. Gradual Abruptness 5. Allons, plongeon

More Than This

Color remains
The frame opens up with an introduction,
The words move forward,
Red and purple;
Browsing time is set to a 20 second visual.
After leaving the theatre, it’s cast
Spreading across the road
Like syrup, cut with silver light.
But the candles don’t help.
Start tucking the sheets underneath the mattress
And the red candle in the back.
Pulling strings and hooks to make something happen
Is always a slip-up.
Waiting for another drink and browse the backlight,
Again and again, dozens and hundreds
Of times.
You see a fog;
This is translated into swirled fragments.
A plate of biscuits lays in front
Of your bare feet,
And you contemplate for a moment
Before stepping back on them.

Step forward with one foot,
For the rest of your days.
And the money isn’t good.
Let the tea soak for a moment;
The red stands still.
It grows within cold skin,
Mouth, and unresponsive eyes.
The soil below is covered with a layer of tall grasses,
Each clump out of view.
It is the year’s circles sprouting and growing,
The height twisting and expanding outwards again.
Forests live in your garden
And several can be seen
Sitting under a parasol,
Trying to reverse the energy’s flow.
The glass shop fronts hum softly
And the empty houses sleep
While the energy is preserved
In the attic of cold wet wood.
Time is asleep;
Rest with cloudy mind and single point of focus for four minutes.
The city’s bricks rotted away
Into multi-chromatic eyes.
Then focus finally settles on
The hoses laid out
Red, blue, green and yellow.
The next scene opens with shambling
Red shoes,
Outstretched towards honey,
A soft steady fall in filter-bag cloth;
A body woven out of rubber bands
Is unable to stand,
While a food processor emits a bouncy steady rhythm
Made the motor hum,
And the melodies develop and
Carry the action to its conclusion.
I always worry where I’m going to sleep.

Suddenly a soft breeze seems to blow
Between the massive buildings;
The white noise of the line
Becomes a monotonous drone,
Ruled over by the rising and falling tones.
You don’t even notice when it stops,
The noise is gone,
But no one seems to be surprised by this,
And you forget how you ever communicated before.
The sound of silence is like a locomotive
Rolling through the room.
The soft hiss of cables breaking
Makes you wonder what the hell is going on.

It is an obsession
That grows out of the fragmenting nature of cheap smiles;
The soap-opera appeals to the lowest common denominator,
While the landscape feels like it is
Crumbling.
The sun hangs low
And
A galaxy of stars
Shines through
A car window.
The colors reflect
Off of your skin.
Your smile glows.
The sound of blown grass
Rains down on the scene
That will be in the next show.
It’s the
Taste of
Candy colors,
Which is all that remains
In a blank slate
And a fresh start.
The memories may fade,
But their colors remain,
Glaring in their brightness
And
Frustration.

•cC°/⁄∆…•˙ ’ \⁄‘°o ı|•

Nightcap

Composed 2017, recorded July 2023

Bernhard Plagg - trumpet 1
Stephan Stadtfeld - trumpet 2
Lionel Speciale - horn
Vladimir Vereś - trombone
Fabian Neckermann - tuba

Sound recording in the studio of the Landesmusikakademie Berlin, 2023
Sound engineer: Benjamin Ostarek

Program Note
Tagundnachtgleiche (Equinox) was created on the occasion of a composition competition for brass quintets announced by the publishing house Furore Verlag in 2017.
At the beginning of 2023, I decided to record the piece in a recording studio and to make it available to the public. The trumpeter Bernhard Plagg was kind enough to take on the project. He put together a brass quintet, organised rehearsal dates, etc.
The composition consists of two elements that alternate or interpenetrate each other. On the one hand, composed, notated music, harmonic and rhythmic in the broadest sense. And on the other, improvised music, mainly consisting of differentiated, nuanced noises and representing a kind of random music, like random sounds in nature.

Tagundnachtgleiche for brass quintet

VRYV VRYVNNV - Star (Witch Trap 2023)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqBp-dUuoGI

Llanura De Acero

@]≈£$§| Œ˝√Ü˘¬“˝RBUnintgent undable sdsıü¸˛‘≠ √¸‘≈@ e

•cC°/⁄∆…•˙ ’ \⁄‘°o ı|•

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