Glowing in the darkest night

Oh my, oh my. I need to get hold of this album.

Ah wowee. You can download them for free, or a donation, over at his site.

http://prettylightsmusic.com/#/downloads

You caught me drifting

Saltillo - I Hate You

The Pancake Repairman's channel over on Youtube is worth a little peek if you enjoy watching snippets of old films cut to ambient post-rocky type music. 

Aspidistrafly - Porcelain Sky Wink

Lead me astray, eh

I am very much liking Frenic this evening. 

Pages of Lumin

A while ago I was flicking through books in a gift shop, waiting for some people to surface from an exhibition. I was feeling a mite grumpy. The exhibition had been so rammed i'd given up on it, and now I had to loiter in a crowded shop, pretending to be interested in tidy displays of pencil sharpeners and posters.

I nestled into a small gap infront of the books and started to paw hopefully at intriguing-looking spines. Help, I willed the books. And they did! When I peeled open a copy of The wrong place by Brecht Evens, my grumpiness lifted. People nudged and jostled past me, hands reached above my head for heavy books, and I stood there oblivious, staring into the colourful scenes, engrossed, my feet locking unmovable roots into the ground.

I didn't notice my buddies had already left and were huddled outside the window in the street, kicking their feet. I don't know how long they had been there. I'd been lost in those pages for a while, and I shuffled out feeling guilty and entranced.

Wandering around town, I was still mulling over the images. I had so wanted to keep the book, but I always find it hard to justify buying anything that isn't edible. I don't like to accumulate stuff. But I still want to paw at those luscious watercolours. They look like beautiful, kaleidoscopic 'Where's Wally?' scenes. I don't really know what's going on in them but they are somehow hypnotic. Nightclubs, stations, parquet floors, parks, streets, shadows.. it's an alluring, quietly chaotic journey.

Here is his blog. He's Belgian, so only a little of it is written in English, but there are a glorious amount of pictures.

Day after day

I run up and down stairs, along the tops of estates. I'm hidden under wintry layers. My breath escapes in billowy, incriminating wisps. I step on through my trails of cloud, look out across the treetops. I hurry on. And my mind drifts.
What a tempting communion.

If you click upon this link, there is a story told through a delicious scroll of illustrations and spoken word.
http://the-bea.st/

I love Laura Marling's diction, it's clear cut and lilting. She moves us whilst it seems she herself hardly stirs or smiles, a pretty static performer. But the songs stand alone, she doesn't need to impress us with anything else.

"The beast was a creature I did not know, I held him once and could not let him go."
Yet "the more you bent and shook for me the more inclined I was to flee",
says she.

Laura Marling - Night after night

Thursday looms

Múm - Now there's that fear again

The storm is gathering

I cycle home at dusk and watch the trace of a moon grow a little each day in the sky. I rummage in my backpack and pull out jumpers and scarves like intestines. I am feeling for an old camera, I found it buried  in a corner of our rickety house not long ago, halfway through a film. It's almost time to develop it.

I take a photo of the sky. Three more skies to go.

I found a couple of other cameras too, one belonging to someone lost. A treasure. I cross my fingers and hope for a photo of them on the film. I know there won't be any -no one else understood how to operate that clunky contraption so they were always the photographer, rarely the subject- but i'm excited. I'm impatient. I want to see the scenes that were snapped and forgotten -a glimpse of what their eyes saw and wanted to remember. But there is trepidation too. I put the camera aside, I don't want to rush it.

Adam Hurst - Unseen