All posts by kcain

small wavelets, crests of glassy appearance, not breaking

time, space, causality
thinking, willing, feeling
acids, bases, salts
mass, power, velocity

laughter, weeping, sleeping

the one who is remembering, the remembered, the act of remembering.

“And then in its turn the journey entered the zone. And Hayao already showed me my images affected by the moss of time. Freed of the lie that had prolonged the existence of those moments swallowed by the spiral.

When Spring came, and every crow announced his arrival by raising his tone a half crow, I took the green train of the Yamanote line and got off at Tokyo station near the central post office. Even if the street was empty, I waited at the red light, Japanese style so as to leave space for the spirits of the broken cars. Even if I was expected no letter, I stopped at the general delivery window, for one must honor the spirits of torn up letters, and at the airmail counter to salute the spirits of unmailed letters.

I took the measure of the unbearable vanity of the West, that has never ceased to privilege being over non-being, what is spoken to what is left unsaid.

I walked alongside the little stalls of clothing dealers.I heard in the distance Mr. Akoa’s voice reverberating from the loudspeakers… a half tone higher.

Then I went down into the basement where my friend “the maniac” busies himself with his electronic graffiti. Finally his language touches me because he talks to that part of us which insists on drawing profiles on prison walls. A piece of chalk to follow the contours of what is not, or is no longer, or is not yet; the handwriting each one of us will use to compose his own list of things that quicken the heartbeat. to offer or to erase. In that moment poetry will be made by everyone and there will be emus in the zone.”

image, sound, words from Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil.

“Because I know that time is always time.
And place is always and only place.
And what is actual is actual only for one time.

And only for one place.”

-T.S Elliot


“my young girls who read in dreaming poses are escaping from fleeting, harmful time. fixing them in the act of reading or dreaming prolongs a privileged, splendid, and magic glimpsed-at time. a suddenly opened curtain sheds light from a window and is seen only by those who know how. thus a book is a key to open a mysterious trunk containing childhood scents.”
from vanished splendors a memoir by balthus. or Count Balthasar Klossowski de Rola


january / wasting / loss of ears / an accident in an elevator / lurching sickness / cracks / false affection / vapors / a secret enemy / misdirection / demons / estrangement / chagrin

the sea, from edward gorey’s fantod pack.


it’s not so much love versus hate, maybe more a teetering on that thin line between opposition and surrender.

there are those who believe, have believed so profoundly in someone or something that submission poses, has posed the only solution. be it to die a violent death at the hands of another (red martyrdom) or to die to oneself everyday (white martyrdom). it’s a choice. wholehearted. and i respect the lack of pink.

recordings are from an ongoing series of reel to reel, single take performances inspired by martyrs. saint triduana and saint edmund, for example.


a distinction is drawn by arranging a boundary with separate sides so that a point on one side cannot reach the other side without crossing the boundary. for example, in a plane space a circle draws a distinction.

once a distinction is drawn, the spaces, states, or contents on each side of the boundary, being distinct, can be indicated.

there can be no distinction without motive, and there can be no motive unless contents are seen to differ in value.

if a content is of value, a name can be taken to indicate this value.

thus the calling of the name can be identified with the value of the content.

that is to say, if a name is called and then is called again, the value indicated by the two calls taken together is the value indicated by one of them.

that is to say, for any name, to recall is to call.

words from spencer brown’s laws of form
image from matila ghyka’s the geometry of art and life