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Limited Edition 2 X Cassette
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released May 7, 2021
Side A. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter…and Spring, after the 2003 film by director Kim Ki-duk.
Side B. Forsythia Out Race Spring’s Yellow Telegram Hope Insists Action, after Mary Ellen Solt’s 1965 concrete poem Forsythia, first published in her Flowers in Concrete from 1966.
Composed between February and December, 2020.
Thank you for your friendship, respect, affection, recognition, trust, communication, understanding, encouragement, inspiration, attention, time, guidance, and care: Alex, Andy, Andry, Arash, Azadeh, Babak, Becca, Ben, Brian, Callum, Cameron G, Cameron S, Celia, Charles, Curtis, Dana, Daniel, Danielle, David, Davora, Dmitra, Elis, Emmie, Erik, Fatima, Farial, Flint, Gordon, Hanayo, Hannah, Ika, Jackie, James, Jan, Jason K, Jeff, Jesse, Joseph, JR, Juliane, Kash, Kirk, Ko, Kosen, Laurel, Leena, Magnus, Mahvash, Mansoor, Marlena, Masa, Melissa, Michelle, Mickey, Moritz, Natalia, Natalja, Nicholas, Nick S, Noa, Nushi, Parviz, Peach, Puddin, Ricardo, Siavash, Sam, Sarah, Sasha, Sean, Sophie D, Sophie M, Steve, Toby, Tony, Tyler, Ulla, Will, Yumiko, Zak
Audio credits to: Angie Keefer via Aaron Flint Jamison for the Adrian Piper recording. Hannah Lee Jones and Sophie Douala for their accompaniment to the Fred Moten lecture. J. Gordon Faylor for introducing me to Demetrio Stratos and publishing the work of Clara B. Jones. Davora Lindner for her reading of Clara B. Jones. Flapjack the Kandi Kid for the DJ Entropy tune. Jason Graf for the MC Gutty tracks. Shy for the song from The Meditator. Dmitra Ozma for the 6Blocc track. JR Chaparro for the DJ SS joint.
To cease to take oneself into consideration for days, weeks, months. Lose sight of oneself. It amounts to going through a long tunnel beyond which one can hope to find a new landscape. . . . I have often feared an uninterrupted consciousness might attach our future too logically to our past, might prevent becoming. Night and sleep alone permit metamorphoses; without oblivion in the chrysalis, the caterpillar could not become a butterfly. The hope of awaking someone else urges me to let the man I am sink into sleep.
—Andre Gide, Journals.
Ikebana by Nakagawa Yukio.