I woke this morning to the sound of a crow knocking on the window with its beak.
I hope it was just trying to tell me that there is a glorious day awaiting me.
It is, in the least, luminous:
The wind is still.
The sky has the thinnest vail of smoke over the purest blue.
Ruby and gold still covering the tips of Fall leaves.
Everything is vibrant and wet and glistening in the sun.
The image crumbled into a thousand blurred frames with this ongoing buzz and tap sound, followed by a light prick felt on my toe.
"What t-?"
Fly suicide.
I am not sure what has happened, or rather, is happening:
Did they find some kool-aid in the woods and are now coming to lay to rest at The Jewel?
What the heck is going on!?
Mass amounts of insect death on my morning...
Flies dropping like flies.
All over the structured glass-scape.... and the floor.
Oh the floor!
A thick ribbon of fly carcasses-
Some still vibrating from the last twitter of their wing.
Disgusting, yet not.
Yet, still happening all around me.
I feel like I am in a Hitchcock movie, only someone screwed up the lighting.
I am almost too tired to find the problem, or a solution.
It is unfortunate.
It will have to continue without me as witness.
I can barely keep my eyes open and play me, let alone play undertaker, as I have barely logged in more then a few hours of sleep in the last couple of days.
It is amazing how momentarily terrifying the sound of silence can be.
How the sounds of your body can mimic:
soft steps on the grass; the hum of a car; taps on the windowpane; whistles; whispers...
Have you listened to how your body sounds?
It's different when there is no city cradling you.
I feel like it sounds like how I imagine a forest in fantastical foreign land would sound: magical buzzing electronic lullabies. Imperceptible noise meshing with ticking and crackling and heavy breaths and heartbeats and faint laughter. Joy popping and fizzing and bursting in dewey air...a haunt and/or an auditory kiss of inspiration-even if it can stir up lust and happiness and fear.
Yes, fear. I guess the woods can do that to me.
Turn me on.
Tune me in.
I imagine it all sounds similar to that of those flies meeting their death in the wee hours of the morning.
I am so tired; therefor, I still haven't been able to fully commit to getting out of bed again-since after my wake up call and my experience above, I crawled back in...
...moments before this post, I was sitting in bed, sleepy eyed with a dull headache, searching for the perfect audio push on Last FM; A way to color over the faint tapping I can still here coming from upstairs.
I typed the band name Múm into the "Radio" section because something about the morning glimpse I got over the cement patio, and in between the feverish flapping of that crow's wings, conjured up the thought of Iceland.
And the delicate, ethereal, playful sounds of Múm and Sigur Ros and Danish experimental band Efterklang and others alike, all seemed perfectly suited for a day I feel like I may slowly tip-toe through...
Efterklang (as mentioned above) is also the Danish word for remembrance and reverberation.
(significance with that crow, perhaps...)
Efterklang makes pretty beautiful, folky, post-pop/rock voyagistic music, and also equally beautiful and adventurous videos.
In my interwebular zone-out, I stumbled through three of Efterklang's videos when the algorythmic gods of You Tube showed me to the video for "Sun in My Mouth" by Bjork.
It seemed befitting that Bjork's musical allusion to poet ee cummings would be the video suggested to me, as my pen name, Esung Mimec, is one of my favorite poet's, Mister Cummings, name scrambled. Ta da!
Maybe it means nothing...
Maybe it means something...
I might never know.
But I do know this, that video and poem are stunning.
And so is my the immediate world outside of my window.
Hope you enjoyed...AND VOTED!!!
I must get up!
Coffee time...
Love.
