No matter where you currently are, don't look now, but Fenster's dropped you off into some place you've never been. You're okay here though. You're alright for now. It feels dark - maybe just dusky. You're squinting, but it doesn't hurt. You find yourself feeling like you're craning to hear whatever sounds you think you hear, coming from in front of you, or perhaps not really coming at all.
It's all something of a blur and a purr, but it feels snug enough and safe enough that we aren't getting too uptight about the teleportation, or the worrisome thought of getting back. That's all if we want to get back, of course. They might be - and it seems like they're going to be - great accommodators. We're likely never going to want to leave here. We're going to remain in this misty land of decay and elegance. This is a place where the clouds roll across the clearest sky - in the rare occasions that the sun's out and shining - pissing across the blue backdrop with such smooth, mechanical ease.
The group from Berlin casts beautiful shadows on these spaces, lifting their songs up into the air to be held there, above the claws and where the pollution tends to thin out. It feels like a place where ghost letters go to live, where they're archived, where whispers pool up and ready themselves for lapping. It's where lush lawns of lemonade grass never brown, but never need cutting either. We've decided to stay. You do what you want.
*Essay originally published November, 2012
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