Improv


Improvisation is stepping off an abyss for me. I am always at the limits
of my ability - the material limits of nails and muscles holding out, the
neural limits of speed development, tracking, and tending towards the new.
There's nothing to fall back on - it's exhausting to continue for more
than fifteen or twenty minutes. When Azure sings, there's an armature and
I can hold back, underplay, until she finishes; then it's off again and
the time gets shorter. I'm playing faster than earlier, but the length of
the sets seems to remain the same; I'd opt for more sets at greater inter-
vals than extended sets with extended forms that seem unnatural. It's top-
fuel dragster sound; it's over and the engine's cooked. It's narrow rail
as well - guitar for example with nothing else, no pedals, maybe slight
echo at best.

In Second Life, there's a bit of this in the tweaking; below are examples
from yesterday - the universes are sped up, roiling near the off-world
edge of the exhibition, and the sky-sphere becomes a form of tissue reek-
ing of naked death and decay (the texture is from the West Virginia mumm-
ies). Below are the images; they might fly through the air in Buddhist
rapture accompanying http://www.alansondheim.org/esp2.mp3 performed the
day before yesterday, put up yesterday, dead-file now, with accompaniment.

http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair1.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair2.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair3.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair4.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair5.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/rainrepair6.jpg



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