This Terrain
On the floor of a blackboard black space black drapes hang floor to ceiling, intense white light haze as if illuminated by a million light sources – a Ganzfeld. Compelled to move but slowly, so very slowly inching across the floor, bare-chest, cold feet finding traction on the gritty surface, prone, moving into the intensity of blinding light filling eyes, beginning to perceive other elements. Shifting imperceptibly senses awaken, ears are filled with a pulse, a very low frequency powerful, loud, marking time like a heart beat. Above this hovers another sound, changing as moving, intense fluttering resonances, piercing high then low, physically felt in bodies moving toward an illuminated white band that glows intensely, sound and pitch rising in moving to efflorescent light, a hard brittle substance and this sound of innumerable arcing pylons and roaring frequencies moving forward, a shifting field of white – this terrain. An instrument, a type of stylus, white light enters a retina, sight is white light, intense electrical field of buffeting noise, a TV screen, a sea of white noise, or pink, or blue, proximity to the light and pitch ratchets higher, physicality, hard and slightly warm, pitch altering subtly, all the time this shifting opposition of light dark, black white, a continuum, a field of energy, entropy, heat death of the universe and nothing and another resonance on the field of sound. The light shows the way, the sound holds, like a madness that cannot be spoken, the sound eradicates all else, then a low throb like a heartbeat after running away or from, then it too dies.