The Windowless Ascension To An Unknown Celestial Space

by Francis Zaander

	/

Streaming + Download

Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

Purchasable with gift card

$10 USD or more

1.	the windowless ascension to an Unknown Celestial Space 08:22	buy track
2.	so called, Soundtrack to Invisible Film 04:06	buy track
3.	this Afternoon 05:04	buy track
4.	on the Door to the Empty Room 06:41	buy track
5.	trouble and Paradise 09:03	buy track
6.	on the bridge alone 05:50	buy track
7.	a Conversation in the Wilderness 09:33	buy track
8.	one who forgets that One is Awake 05:56	buy track
9.	half an inch Above the Floor 09:36	buy track

about

This is how it began, there where almost four hundred of the little guys crawling all over the place when I got home.
So I just had to burn the house down.
I think that anyone would have don’t the same thing.

I burned the whole house down.From top, to bottom, And I was sitting there wondering just what to do next then I saw that they weren't really gone at all, they where just still there wriggling right as much as even right all in the ember and ashes from where the house had been. What a fucking mess.

this was no time to panic.
So I take a deep breath and get down on their level, downing in the hot ash with all those disgusting creatures. But down close to them were they open up to revel more of the puzzle.

And what you see are are the gaping hungry mouths, toothless and content with desperation. Still the closer you get that very mouth is situated in small but perfectly normal faces. Perhaps ones I’ve forgotten myself.

One looks up and says to me:

“don’t go and worry about what you’ve done,
the house had been standing too long
and you didn’t even own it anyway.

Don’t go and worry about what you’ve seen
our little familiar faces, have forgotten you
as you have forgotten them.
And how can you trust a mouth that’s too big anyhow.”

Jesus what have I been missing.

Before me seemed to be two options.

One was follow this spark of a though down the closed corridors of my mind,
leading even to the door that behind was my right scene of things, hiding away hiding from what it’s done. Leaving me on this side without my mind, and without recognition of the lonesome faces lost for fear they would be missed.
I could head down this pathway, and it was calling me back, or I would keep running away deeper and deeper and further from all the disgusting tiny faces.

I set my torch back alight, and point my feet as they may walk downtown, and I am far away before I realize what choice I’ve made.

credits

released April 9, 2024

license

about

Francis Zaander Malta

Who is anybody, really?

zaander.org

contact / help

Contact Francis Zaander

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like Francis Zaander, you may also like:

Error Subcutáneo
by Error Subcutáneo

featured on Bandcamp Radio May 3, 2022
go to album
Interstitial
by Oh No Noh + Jenny Berger Myhre + F.S.Blumm

Free-flowing, loosely structured songs that borrow lightly from jazz and ambient but expand in directions all their own. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 7, 2023
go to album
Sonic Essences
by Angela Winter

With all proceeds going to benefit Ukraine, the latest from Angela Winter is a beautifully haunting work that centers the human voice. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 16, 2022
go to album
Distant Sediments
by Oh No Noh + Midori Hirano + Jo David Meyer Lysne

Expansive electronic compositions that prize color and texture, perfect for contemplative moods. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 12, 2021
go to album
Nauhoi
by Heta Bilaletdin

featured on Bandcamp Radio Sep 28, 2021
go to album
#46 - Hibernation
by The Owl

With each song named after a remote city, “Hibernation” is haunting darkambient that surrounds & engulfs. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 11, 2021
go to album
where one begins and the other stops
by Oh No Noh

Fascinating minimal indie pop, with rhythms that whirr and click like clockwork, ornamented with silvery guitars. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 29, 2021
go to album