In deep waves

I am in deep submersion in Alvin Lucier's still, quivering world of sonic exploration of minute sonic phenomena. It's like spelunking in a way, and the endless exploration of seemingly monotonous territory bears a resemblance to that of the house in House of Leaves, corridor after corridor of the same but there is a compulsion to go on. Except Lucier is arguably less terrifying than the physical manifestation of an internal metaphysical hell as exhibited in the book.

I've concocted a book idea out of this exploration and even enlisted a friend to help with the scholarly angle, or rather, he enlisted himself and I gratefully took him on and last night got 2,000 words into the first draft. I love this obsessive phase of things. I feel a connection to the artist's work and its connection to my work and most importantly, the shock of the current running through that connection. At 2 a.m. I was gleefully plugging footnotes into a document. On my to-do list today is go to the library and look up a Kierkegaard quote. I am using italics in excess. I feel positively writerly today.

Above is a video I stumbled on to of someone performing Lucier's Music for Solo Performer, where the performer's brainwaves are recorded and amplified to make vibrations on percussion instruments, essential creating music with his or her thoughts. This melodramatic performance film is a little more Nosferatu than how I see most of Lucier's work, but its gives a glimpse into his unique character as a composer and how this curious work is interpreted.