disc two track eleven - 3:00
Pascale Trudel - Flamingo !
ANALYSIS: writing to sound
writing to sound
A creak, opens the door to thunder, a park, squeaks, imminent danger, scratches, comfort, celaphane, or mystery. The door keeps squeaking open, and closed, rubbing, childern, having fun… to many birds, geese… then rubbing, scratching, and distortion.
Compensation. Conversation…. open space, is so soothing.
Many birds, quite, blend into eachother, some people… the hum and daily actions of humans involved with machines… the silk screener swipes and rubs paint onto our lives… the ambient conversations we have. Always intruded, or orchestrated by, a generator, generating our emotions. While listening to them bounce off the hollow walls we surround.
Thunder. Geese. Scratching… like a violin. Closed.
Open space for birds to grieve, sing, yell, flap. But conversation floods in again… the incessant hum follows. The thunder, the space, the birds, the conversation… we're going faster from one scene to another. Always, by the door, the swiper, the scratcher… it ends, as it began, with an ever so mortal creak, though this time, the door actually shuts.
analysis by Sophia Male
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