It takes a long time to feel better. Eventually, memories lose their contours and begin their slow leak through hot blood, aching bone, tender skin. What once felt so present fades, away from pain, into the ether as an echo. The echo may reverberate back, but it’s softer now, and cuts like a thorn mindlessly passed by (in the woods) rather than a cold blade.
A process, drawn out, here, to almost 8 minutes of grey mud, steaming baths, restorative tears, impassioned heart beats, and choral resounds, as if a seraph was listening all along, and caught the echo in its mouth, and slid it over its white tongue, and sung it back through filters of grey cloud. It billows, it haunts, it’s non-resolute. What is, though, is the steady thump of healing, from within, concrete, constant, empowering, uplifting: a fixed point, inside, ever present, to return to.
Find “I Think of You Less Now” on Summer Isle’s new compilation, Ideological Horizon, a “cross-cultural Canadian electronique document compiled throughout 2017.”
More about: Jaclyn Kendall
