Flavigula

Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.


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The fungus grows in my soul
Music
Absurdity
Fri, 11 Feb, 2011 17.57 UTC

I’m at Diner 24. That, in itself, is not surprising, since I was hungry after seraching for the Steve Reich boxed set called Phases. Searching for good music makes my tummy rumble and always has. I used to sift through the cd stores in New York City (Greenwich Village) for hours. I was faint from the effort. Once, Natascha had to pretty much carry me to the diner across the street and feed me forkfull by forkfull until I had regained my strength.

Yes, those were the days.

I just ordered Phases. I look forward to perusing the contents as well and indulging in the fantastic music for hours. The day it arrives will be consumed by the overlapping melodies.

I wonder why Justin does not like Steve Reich. He pointedly told me once that I should explore Philip Glass until my ventricles explode with delight, but to stay away from Reich for fear of clotting.

Ambient noise
Sensory
Fri, 11 Feb, 2011 18.27 UTC

In the cafe, the voices of people sound murky. They are commingling with the music murmuring from hidden speakers. It all combines to be a muddy slush flowing into my ears. I removed my headphones and it washed sluggishly over me. My mind moves more and more slowly.

I shall leave.

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2023 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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