About this audio:
Even when I don’t have hope in anything I still hope for hope. I don’t feel like I have anything figured out, but for the first time I don’t feel like I’m not trying hard enough. For the first time I don’t feel like “If I just could ________ it would all make sense.” That feels freeing. Not especially comforting, but liberating. And life keeps flowing onward to whatever comes next… some great ocean or massive waterfall. Hold on..
About this visual (Alice Guerin):
We climb through discontent past the hour of death, guided by sweaty palms and sticky fingers; hands opened to sweet sanctuary, the hairy and crowded paths to the safe haven of Sault Ste. Marie.
The rejoinder to the question, an emanant redundant repartee.
Incessant is the invitation, cautious is the callous invitee.
The intransigent sentiment, the unrelenting deluge of the sea.
The rigolets of Pontchartrain and the cataracts of Sault Ste. Marie.
Ste. Marie, pray for me sweet Saint Mary.
I can’t read the future and I can’t see the past.
Please, Saint Marie, send us sweet sanctuary
Now and in the hour of death
And whatever comes next.
The universal allargando, delta to the infinite expanse.
The moments in between the moments in between each unassuming breath.
Still I sense the will of some invariant, unyielding bel esprit
Ceaseless like the Salkehatchie, flowing like the falls of Ste. Marie
A valedictory decree or reverential reverie for truth
The anacrucis to the coda, good to meet you nice to know ya, and adieu.
And if I should relent my soul I will commend my quintessence to thee
And catapult my body o’er the cataracts of Sault Ste. Marie.
Hold on, I don’t believe you, when you gonna come for the unbelievers.
Hold on, I don’t believe you, what you gonna do with the unbelievers, now. Hold on.
from Language Burier
released June 3, 2016
Written, performed, engineered, produced by Alan Goffinski.
Mastered by Adam Wisz.
Artwork by Alice Guerin.
all rights reserved