the story of being invisible
the story of being invisible
[Three stories —perhaps in parallel universes]
Story one: (sets scene for simultaneity of two and three)
(one voice with treated phrases and chorus.)
A young man on a fire escape transplants foxgloves in a window box. He massages the earth, aerates it, sends it messages. Microbes. Electrons. Ancient air.
[ A pigeon darts overhead. ]
How
Chorus: « a mystic Shape did move Behind me, »
it draws him back by his neck hairs.
Chorus: Death,
he thinks,
Chorus: how it re-organizes form,
dinosaurs presage birds …
systems of communication resemble music, language's progenitor …
« What is the evolutionary function of dance? »
Chorus: it re-organizes form,
Rain glissades off fleshy fingers. The young man hums a tune he couldn't know.
Chorus: hmmmmmm…
Sun presses open cloud. A fresh bud sprouts.
« The youth jiggles his shoulders and arms, jingles. »
Rainbow.
(slight pause)
[ Something invisible looms. ]
(explore)
Story two: (Stories two an three may be presented simultaneously at a pace and with arrangements in space allowing engaging counterpoint lines to emerge among words, sounds, images, and ideas—like watching two TV channels at the same time. Two groups might be placed up high on opposite sides of a set for antiphonal treatment. Groups merge in End section.)
(one male voice with treated phrases and chorus)
« In the chiliocosm
(multiples) [ (countless universe) ]
of living and non-living space. »
(Measurement - Tallying Divinity)
With unbounded infinity. Imagine, we are living in one visible world and contiguous to our "world" is another and another
(multiples) [ (ad infinitum), ]
(one) [ (chiliocosm) ]
each visible to one's own universe and invisible to alien spheres. Each communicates, interacts, with other-world phenomena—
(one) [ shared sphere space. ]
(multiples) [ (Room to let.) ]
Must one know that one is communicating for there to be communication
(communication devoid of volition—for instance, the way one's body unknowingly sways when it's surrounded by weeping willows in wind)?
« [ Must ]
[ one know ]
[ one …
Chorus: IS
[ … to be ]
Chorus: IN-
-visible? ]
Must …
(cyclical voice chant composition on …)
one know one
one know one IS
one know one IS to be
one know one IS to be INv-[IS]-ible
know one IS
know one IS to be
know one IS to be INv-[IS]-ible
know one IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one
one IS to be
one IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one
one IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one know
IS to be INv-[IS]-ible
IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one
IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one know
IS to be INv-[IS]-ible one know one
INv-[IS]-ible one know
INv-[IS]-ible one know one
INv-[IS]-ible one know one IS
INv-[IS]-ible one know one IS to be »
The universe of the earth
(microcosm of Earth on a rainy day).
Still, the young man adds roots to the earth. He massages the dirt, feels a part of and apart from it in his urban aerie. Alienation washes over him as he tends his plants, extends his fingers in dirt.
Arabic
Basque
Catalan
Dutch
Finnish
French
German
Greek
Hebrew
Hindi
Indonesian
Italian
Korean
Kurdish
Norwegian
Russian
Turkish
«What happens when your communication system vastly differs from that of other life-forms?»
As the young man attempts to commune with that which he perceives extends into a contiguous universe, he imagines himself fading utterly from its phenomena knowledge.
« [ Alone I cannot be, ] »
he thinks. With communication comes expectation, disappointment. He deems himself so much an element of his universe that he isolates himself from the visible world, as the sky appears invisible without clouds. Nothing's there.
(As a schoolboy, he imagined he was H-e on the Periodic Table. The makeup of the earth would change when he died, he presumed. Science books would be rewritten.)
« Now he is aware that he can be perceived in countless ways, »
Chorus: [ depending on the changes ]
he makes, or not, depending on those that come and go in his life.
[ He depends, now. ]
[ On life. ]
Chorus: [ depending on the changes ]
[ He is. ]
[ A partner. ]
A part of something larger than himself.
(slight pause—music continues)
Now he is sure.
« His hands rest in the dirt and he breathes. He's laid to rest. »
Conflict overwhelms him. He is decompressing helium. It expires. He knows, now,
« [ one shouldn't give rise to aspiration while abiding in sound, … ] »
… odor, taste, touch or concepts; one should give rise to aspiration
[ while not abiding ]
[ in anything. ]
(explore)
Story three: (Stories two an three may be presented simultaneously at a pace and with arrangements in space allowing engaging counterpoint lines to emerge among words, sounds, images, and ideas—like watching two TV channels at the same time. Two groups might be placed up high on opposite sides of a set for antiphonal treatment. Groups merge in End section.)
(one female voice—punctuated by multiplicities)
Elizabeth Barrett Browning has died a few days earlier and Emily, an avid gardener, carefully crouches in her white dress, so as not to soil it, and transplants foxgloves in the morning, before the sun is strong, mourning Mrs. Browning, whose poetry she greatly admires.
« These are for you she thinks as she gently presses them open to take root. Sprouting love. »
Chorus: A pigeon darts overhead:
[ Hope is the thing with feathers. ]
After her foxgloves are safely tucked in beneath the rich, dark blanket, she visits her silly orange lilies. She will divide them this fall, though is saddened to break up friendships. With great care, she places her fingers in the soil—notes its temperature, its weight, feels for what's there and what isn't.
(one) [ The moisture / the spirits. ]
(multiplicity) [ The universes inside universes. ]
(multiplicity) [ Their universities. ]
(multiplicity) [ The verses inside her. ]
(brief pause—music continues)
A Civil War has recently commenced. Emily hears a siren. She cups her ear. The sound emanates from her heart.
Chorus: Here.
She pictures …
Chorus: a young man planting foxgloves in the
rain.
She recognizes …
Chorus: his beauty,
though he does dress oddly and dances when he's sure no one is looking. She pictures …
Chorus: the young man's family planting his
wounded flesh in the earth.
[ Who isn't a casualty? ]
It rains lightly all afternoon. Emily is aware of the
(beat starts for transition to End section)
percussive precipitation as she writes:
(gentle rap chant—beat continues)
(explore)
Alone, I cannot be
For Hosts—do visit me—
Recordless Company—
Who baffle Key—
Refrain: Alone, I cannot be—
Refrain: Alone, I cannot be—
They have no Robes, nor Names—
No Almanacs—nor Climes
But general Homes
Like Gnomes—
Refrain: Alone, I cannot be—
Their Coming, may be known
By Couriers within—
Their going—is not—
For they're never gone—
Refrain: Alone, I cannot be—
Refrain: Alone, I cannot be—
(harmonized chorus—unison—spoken)
One can assume, she believes, that phenomena exist which cannot be seen by anyone, anything.
(solo—chorus echoes canonically in parallel harmonies—on composed melody)
A woman in her own time
…
…
…
(multipart—tight phase shifting canon becoming acoustic texture—on composed rhythm)
Is able to become
Invisible
(harmonized chorus—unison—spoken—overlapping cannon texture)
Or communicate with invisible phenomena as if they could be seen by each person's internalized eyes
(change treatment—multiple voices—but clear)
« Can something make a mark with no meaning? »
Swallowed by Earth and silenced
(unison—gentle, not precious)
Immortality.
(explore)