until they fade away completely...

"it seems like a rhythmical process, like inhalation and exhalation; waves of disturbance run through the sun sphere, stream out and stream back again, gradually lessen in strength until they fade away completely."

the text is from l. kolisko's gold and the sun, an account of experiments conducted in connection with the total eclipse of the sun of 20th may, 1947. kolisko's experiments dealt with "the influence of various heavenly bodies on earthly substances" by exposing "filter paper" coated with various solutions of gold and silver nitrate to the sun during a solar eclipse.

the abstract images presented in the folio are indeed quite beautiful and certainly demonstrate the amazing abilities for light and chemicals to react to each other towards creation, but instead of kolisko's evidence, i present one of my own: an albumen photograph of a banjo player (or in actuality a banjo-uke player) circa 1880. as you can see, the sunlight has done a beautiful thing with this image, creating something along the alchemical lines of some of strindberg's camera-less photographic experiments, and expressing the kind of inner electricity of some of strindberg's texts (i.e. inferno).

since kolisko's experiments had more to do with anthroposophy than science, it seemed only fitting to use an image of a man who seems to be in the midst of being consumed by his own energy and aura. the image seems as much of a psychic or emotional state as much as the physical portrait it once was... thought forms never looked so good!

the music you can still hear when the musicians leave the room...

the sound of water. the cry of cicadas. a cuckoo cries. heard, not seen, the camellia poured rainwater. the cuckoo sings . the tides slosh. a cricket singing . the mosquito hums . the warbler sings the wild duck's plaintive cry grows faintly white . icy sound of monks' getas echo long and cold . the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice . temple bell. skylarks to sing. singing, planting rice, village songs more lovely. lonely silence. a single cicada's cry. a woodpecker tapping at a post. no sound at all. a cricket sings. your song caresses, o high mountain bird.

every sound from 73 haikus by matsuo basho.
image: detail from an 1880's albumen print of a japanese tea house with musical instruments.