If your eyelids were shower curtains, you might see the world as hari han does. A plastic sheet and gathering steam make mere shapes of the clowns passing through: they’re only given away by the triangular party hats they wear. It’s hard to tell what they’ve come for. These jesters traverse space with little regard for their surroundings, each walking the perimeter of the tile floor before giving their successor a turn.
Immobilized by fear, you’re only grounded by the shower head’s warm stream.
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love ride’s six synth sketches are traced into the mirror with a finger. The sines and squares seem to take more away from the material world than they leave, tilling holes that redirect light back at the listener. Face nothing and you can’t help but introspect.
I find myself coming back to “enough”, overcast gelatin that emerges from what sounds like a theremin with chest congestion. It’s stagnant, but as triumphant as hacking a good wad of mucus into Kleenex. It’s the little things.
Stream/download love ride here via Psalmus Diuersae. It comes with a .pdf file containing poetry and clown drawings. Check it.
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