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What do waiting, white noise and splinters have in common?
Waiting, genuine waiting, is a form of white noise. One sees white noise and waits for the image.
And this image is a small piece of beauty you have been longing for.
When this beauty (or call it happiness) arrives, she is full of splinters; some pieces broken off, some erased.
I’m not going to smooth this out, that’s not what I do.
You should know: there is a novel beauty in the corrosion of an old (sound)world. Really.
What this is about?
So, about waiting,
about pieces of beauty, it breaking or missing,
about a rustling ensemble, a rustling music, not smoothened, angry, a wooden beam full of splinters.
And, as Zarah Leander sang, ‘ich steh im Regen uns warte auf dich...’ the melancholy.