On that distant road, it was once said:
When you feel music inside, for something, that's the day you might possibly stay there.”
That day came, the invisible score resounded in the air, slowly enveloping him with undefined measures, pupils dilated without being seen.
The eye united by the combination of their faces merged with the dark hair of both, tied by the senses, the atoms were mixed in musical notes as if nothing existed except the time of the measures without measures, the beats made an infraleve and permanent metronome that turned into a peaceful harmony by the environment that resounded by the wind.
The beings walked united by the root of the tree of a guitar, their strings were now joint, the soul resonated through the box beyond their mouths, those entities would be immersed in themselves, thus from that instant remaining fixed every century, at last they stopped playing separately.
*Infraleve: It is perceived as invisibly, barely noticeable.
Photographers: Stefano Majno
My name.
The name of the textual sound of silence. |
Sound Artist, Writer in experiment, Artist, Audiophile “NoMusician”.”