See these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me?
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
Alas, long barred, and rusted shut.

#æsahættr #industrialmusic #antiauthoritarian #post-rock #doompop #independenceday #resist

Whatever the choice of media, I return to these ideas time and again, in hopes of getting closer to the shape I see, blurred in the fog of all my preconceived notions of what beauty is and can be.

Function only goes so far… Freedom is ecstatic chaos, vulnerable and yet fearless. The human animal as canvas for an elusive and inconceivable landscape. The wilderness of the mind given temporary shape to roam.

The disguises either prepared for us by the cultures and societies we are born into, or the disguise of expression we cultivate for ourselves. Either way, a conforming deviation, or deviation of conformity. What are we saying? What does it mean? And what does it matter?

I’ve always liked the idea that our world is simultaneously a school, a prison, an asylum, a museum, a gallery, a play, a dance, an orchestra, a library of too much for any one soul. But just enough for all.

We navigate the terrain set before us between the cradle and the grave. Given some set of ideological tools or another to make sense of it all.