A 'stream of consciousness' review of Rasplyn's 'Scenes Through The Magic Eye'' audio release
“The bells keep ringing. Sparks fly into the air from each impact. Fireworks for the microcosmos.
As we get closer and closer we get further and faster. What was once small becomes immense.
The bell noise pushes us through time and space. The sparks are the energy which move us.”
I sit in a boat on a river. I look up to see the fireworks. The water ebbs and flows against the sides. The fish blow bubbles which levitate from the surface of the water. I pop them one by one with my sword. The sword glimmers in the moonlight. Every pop releases small gold patches of smoke.
The river starts to push faster as my boat floats down the river.
The canopy of trees and plants reveal hundreds of sparkling animal eyes glimmering in the moonlight. They move and follow my down the river. The trees shake with the breath of the wind. The sounds of the leaves are like hundreds of tiny flutes sustained in various notes.
From leaves to notebook I write my thoughts. I pen my images on paper for all to see when I am gone. For now these are private like eggs buried in the ground. The ink bleeds on my paper. It comes from my veins which touch my pen and the blood flows through the pen on my paper.
Suddenly the words start to animate. They dance. They wiggle. The rejoice in their creation. One by one they jump from the pages into my boat. They group together to form a chain to pull themselves up to the side. The words gloriously jump into the river. You see their ink bodies disperse and merge with the water.
I have written so many pages that after an hour the river runs black. I am floating on a sheet of Hematite.
The glowing animal eyes reveal their bodies. They are curious about the newly formed Hematite River. They want to join my story. Foxes, monkeys, frogs, and other various creatures slip into the Hematite mass. They want a change. They want to live in my mind. I want to live in my mind. Sometimes everyday life is too mundane. I want fantasy. I want to live in the fantastic. For after all I am just an animal like them.
The night seems to get darker when all of the animals have been submerged. My surroundings are one big black shiny mass except for where the stars hang. It doesn’t take too long for their curiosity to get the best of them too. The stars fall one by one into the river but each leave a silver streak through the night sky. They extinguish into the Hematite and make a subtle ‘pop’ sound. But they are numerous so they sound like a tiny drum orchestra in random tempo.
I float even faster down the river but the wind it still. I hear the wind is the language of the stars. The language must be under the Hematite river intermingling with the stars and animals.
I start to take off my shirt. Then my boots and pants. I stand in the boat. I sway back and forth. I must join them. I need to become Hematite. I need to mingle with the fantastic.
I jump. There is no sound. The river doesn’t ripple.