stopGOstop is proud to present episode 178: 2° F winds out of the west, a new composition for cello, piano, percussion and recording.
(Some might have gotten a re-podcast of episode 171 on 1/24, a clerical error, please enjoy)
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Looking at the bark of a tree– nothing seems to be moving, the tree is moving slower than I can see, I listen for its sound, I hear episode 176, a new composition for a small ensemble and binaural field recording of traffic.
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The water flows north this morning. The sun, it seems to be moving slower over the lake, gaining altitude, finding its way through the clouds. The birds, mostly geese, sparrows, and pigeons today… I wonder if they see what I see. Do they marvel at the sun, the clouds, and the reflective light on the lake? Their brains are made of the same gray stuff as mine; why wouldn’t their mind be able to remember what they ate yesterday, remember the nice bird feeder, the couple that stared at them through the window? Maybe they get bored with the games we use to try and measure their intellect and see no use in them. They go and dream of bird art and bird poetry instead of taking the bird S.A.T.
Either way, the morning is beautiful.
We judge our past, to or at a distance, at what our ancestors too often turned a blind eye to, so too, future concepts in weather will not recover what we already have done; truth be told, if we were serious about climate change we would ban jet aircraft, by that I mean, truth is always easier looking towards the past or future, but not towards the now.
Either way, the morning is beautiful.
stopGOstop is proud to present episode 175, Song of Water, Sparrows, and Light, a new piece for manipulated sine waves and sample library orchestra.
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Looking inward — the waves moving, the mind murmurs in melody, this morning there was a glimmer, then at noon a glow; as I move, I hear episode 173, a new composition for a small ensemble.
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So, yeah. I had a dream last night that I was composing a new piece for episode 171 of the stopGOstop podcast. This is unusual for me; my dream life is, well, limited. My nightly walks through my subconscious mind are, kind of boring.
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A new composition (I will/might update the description in a couple of weeks, but in short, sometimes a conversation can make circles and birds more interesting than before).
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A new composition for watching the snow melt, or watching the ice float on the Lake, or to calm the mind as it awaits the future. Always remember, composer Milton Feldman worked at his family’s business (manufacturing children’s coats) until he was forty-four, so work tomorrow isn’t going to be that bad. This piece is the second in a series of works inspired by walking/biking around Evanston, IL; featuring computerized Tuba, Contrabass, Timpani, and a number of other semi-symphonic and sinewave instruments.
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