the story of lightness
“When the human realm seems doomed to heaviness, I feel the need to fly like Perseus into some other space. I am not talking about escaping into dreams or into the irrational. I mean that I feel the need to change my approach, to look at the world from a different angle, with different logic, different methods of knowing and proving.” —Italo Calvino, “Lightness,” Six Memos for the Next Millennium
Tsuyu toku toku
kokoromi ni ukiyo
susugabaya
With clear melting dew,
I’d try to wash away the dust
of this floating world
—Matsuo Bashō, Travelogue of Weather-Beaten Bones, trans. by Sam Hamill
The lightness album arrived in waves. Though I didn’t know it at the time, the first part to emerge was the album’s theme, when news of the pandemic started crossing the globe in early March 2020 and places began to lock down.
Anxious about the unknown times ahead, I went to see a certain ginkgo tree that’s special to me. I sat beneath the ginkgo, meditated, and asked the tree for guidance. The ginkgo replied: “Make a study of joy. Joy is active. Surrendering to what is is joy.” As I meditated, the ginkgo showed me images of sunlight, a bug crawling, a bird landing on a branch, people touching bark, wind rustling through leaves. These are joy for the ginkgo, I realized.
The ginkgo provided more guidance: “Breathe. Find the space inside. Receive and rejoice. There is a hole in this world that leads to the hole in all other worlds. The purpose is to journey. You humans are just learning.”
I asked: How can I help? The ginkgo replied: “Offer joy. Re-member the true world through joy.”
I woke the next day wondering how to live through a pandemic while contributing something positive and valuable. Years ago, the shaman Malidoma Somé told me my task is to bring beauty to the world with my voice while serving as a messenger, healer, and artist. I didn’t know how to proceed with that work during a lockdown, so I decided the best course of action was to follow the ginkgo’s guidance by studying joy. I also sought counsel from other spirit guides as I went along. Hummingbirds arrived to expand my curriculum, and as I began following their example, lightness became part of my learning, too.
I read Italo Calvino’s essay on lightness in Six Memos for the Next Millennium, taking copious notes while following his expeditions into science, myth, poetry, literature, folk tales, and shamanic culture. Around the same time, I was doing research for an experimental piece I was composing when I ran across a mention of Matsuo Bashō’s poetic philosophy of karumi, or lightness. Bashō’s advice to his students was to give their poetry a sense of immediacy by composing lightly and gently with ordinary words, like a clear stream flowing over a sandy bed. This emphasis on fresh perspective and naturalness echoed the aesthetics of Japanese painting during that time, which focused on painting lightly and leaving “overtones” and incomplete, open space for viewers to fill with meaning and imagination. These characteristics of Bashō’s poetry and Japanese painting reminded me of the abstract experimental and ambient music I was listening to constantly.
I was fascinated by this exploration of lightness from different perspectives—Eastern and Western, Japanese and Italian, older and more modern—during the heaviest parts of 2020. As I read Bashō’s poetry and Calvino’s thoughts on lightness, I began to perceive secret gardens within the small spaces I was inhabiting during lockdown. It was as though tiny worlds and entire galaxies were revealing themselves within the ordinary confines of home. During a sudden thunderstorm on the summer solstice, mycelial music flowed through my consciousness, and I recorded myself singing the experimental, wordless compositions that streamed through me.
But the album project didn’t begin to take shape until the Independence Day holiday of 2020, when a wasp stung me out of absolute nowhere. The wasp’s sting seemed to say: Get going! Make something of what you’re learning to share with others. Do it now and with lightness!
So I did. I gave myself 108 days—a sacred number in Buddhism and Hinduism—to write and record the album. The recordings sat fallow for another 108 days as I learned how to mix audio. Then I mixed and produced lightness during a third and final cycle of 108 days, finishing in early June 2021.
Lightness is a floatation device. It’s about dewdrop perspectives, stones that breathe, shooting stars, beauty and deprivation, playfulness and spontaneity, ephemera and fragility, and sudden, nimble leaps out of the heaviness of the world. It’s about sadness made light with tenderness and a steady gaze. It’s about true freedom within apparent confinement. It’s about seeing yourself as a cloud.
Working with lightness has utterly transformed me. May it free you, too.
Love,
Angela
P.S. This is a headphones album, so put this music in your ears. You’ll find candy for them there.
tracks
dewdrop in a cup
voyage to the moon
dust in sunlight
see yourself as a cloud
interstice
shooting stars
the stones also breathe
beyond ice mountain
this floating world
works cited
Bashō, Matsuo. Narrow Road to the Interior and Other Writings. Translated by Sam Hamill. Boulder: Shambhala, 2000.
Calvino, Italo. Six Memos for the Next Millennium. Translated by Geoffrey Brock. Boston: Mariner Books, 2016.
Kafka, Franz. "The Bucket Rider: A Short Story by Franz Kafka." The New York Times, February 9, 1974. https://www.nytimes.com/1974/02/09/archives/the-bucket-rider-a-short-story-by-franz-kafka.html.
Shirane, Haruo. Traces of Dreams: Landscape, Cultural Memory, and the Poetry of Bashō. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1998.
Watts, Alan. Taoism: Way Beyond Seeking—The Edited Transcripts. New York: Tuttle, 1998.
thanks to
Alyson Plante—for your beautifully trippy album art and design, for teaching me how to float and paint and play, for telling me to “snap out of it!” at crucial pandemic junctures, for shooting stars and alien adventures, for your amazing offspring who are lights in my life, for being my sister, and for your immense generosity and love, forever and always
Chuck Cunningham—for trekking through the woods, camera in hand, to experiment and laugh with me on a sunny afternoon; for your wry humor and good nature; and for your gorgeous black-and-white photography
Jonathan Robinson at Beached Records—for delivering lovely, nuanced audio masters and being so kind, especially in challenging times here, there, and everywhere
Joshua Marquez—for agreeing to transform lightness via your exquisite ambient tape loops + effects for our release-and-destroy party; I’m stoked to create this event with you, mate!
Dzmitry Tselabionak, Florian Reichelt, and NASA—for sharing your inspiring photographs and field recordings for remixing via the creative commons
Matsuo Basho, Italo Calvino, Franz Kafka, Haruo Shirane, Alan Watts, the Cloud Appreciation Society, clouds, thunderstorms, sunlight, helium, the ginkgo tree, the wasps who stung me, the hummingbirds and owls who visited me, my garden, fireflies, honeybees, tree frogs, spiders, mantids, orcas, dolphins, great blue herons, bluebirds, butterflies, hawks, woodpeckers, cardinals, Carolina wrens, towhees, mourning doves, the council of pines, the cedar dreaming tree, the elementary school playground, the secret theatre in the woods, the magic mushrooms, David Bohm, Stonehenge, John Cage, Timothy Morton, J.R. Korpa, Leonora Carrington, Jerry Uelsmann, Corita Kent, Apollinaire, the Surrealists, the beach of crystals, the moon, the Perseids, the stars, Venus, Mercury, Saraswati, Lakshmi, Ganesha, Sri Yukteswar, Pan, Lacrymosa, and all my teachers—for inspiration, guidance, and encouragement to learn, grow, and be light
readers of the Auspices, followers on Bandcamp, show attendees, and listeners across the globe—for your company and fellowship on this quixotic journey—you help me keep going (special thanks to those who’ve written to me—your kindness lifts my spirits)
Jim Dykes, as well as my arts patrons who are flying incognito—for your direct and generous support, which sustains my music and gladdens my heart—I am so grateful
Joey & Stu Halloway—for our cozy and essential pandemic porch visits, fire hangs, and movie nights, your incredibly generous support, and your love—thank you, dear friends!!
Tim Carless—for believing in my music, teaching me piano, and encouraging me to fly
Ted Johnson & John Shannon—for getting me started in electronic music, loaning me gear during lockdown, and answering my endless questions about effects pedals, mixers, cables, signal chains, dBs, gain staging, PAs, and more with patience, clarity, and kindness
Bryce Eiman—for the passionflower and some damn fine noise music
Grant Stewart—for your friendship, your stellar, glitchtastic music, and saying yes to our collab!
On Ka’a Davis—for your divine spirit, beautiful heart, and the X-RAY VISION
the musicians and artists who performed at TheAerie.live during the pandemic: Belly Full Of Stars, cenOte, Kelli Frances Corrado, On Ka'a Davis, Robinson Earle, Elisa Faires, Dallas Thrasher, Daniel Fields, Melissa Gonzales, Lena Gray, Lex DV, Infanta Silhouette, Michelle Cassandra Johnson, knives of spain, Joshua Marquez, minthill, Meg Mulhearn, Charlotte Munn-Wood, Manuel J. Perez III, JoHanna Rose, subterrene, CJ Suitt, Aliya Ultan, The Waking Life, Wave Assembly, and Tristan Welch—for inspiring us all during an incredibly difficult time
Eva Schmoock—for the gift of an experimental garden, which is much like experimental music
Kristy Ford—for your kindhearted gift and metallurgic master class in letting go
Kitty Love—for the secret rave and blue butterflies at the beginning of 2020 and your magical invitation into the next world
Mary Beth Bardin, Asa Eger, Michelle Johnson, Dani Leah Strauss, and Katie Veleta—for your goddess magic, beauty, listening, counsel, fires, oracles, chocolate, laughter, and love
friends and family near and far, including: Lee Bates, the Becker family, Bryan Bender, Daniel Bianchetta, Jesse Bullington, Chris Bullock, the Carico family, Michele Counter, Christina Cucurrello, Bruno DeAlmeida, Jen DeMik, Frank and Rob DiMauro, Kim Dupre, Jim Dykes, Daniel Fields, the Halloway family, Amy Haupl, Janice Hepburn, Shandra Iannucci, Ted Johnson, Leigh Lassiter, Katie Leiva, Robbie Link, Alison Luterman, Angela Faye Martin, Ruffin McCoy, Carmen Nelson, Charles Ovett, the Plante family, John Shannon, Robb Stacy, Jamie Tripp, Emily Washburn, Paige Williams and the Williams-Sylvester family, everyone who sent birthday cards when I asked for them (best birthday ever!!), and my wonderful neighbors and townsfolk in Carrboro—for your friendship, love, and support
those who’ve gone—for the lessons, laughter, and love—I honor you and all that we’ve shared, and as my friend Tim Carless once sang, “No one’s to blame”
Dave Robinson—for being my Papa Grande and for your generous support, cheeky wit, and love—I will always dance and sing along to ELO, the Bee Gees, and ABBA with you!
my ancestors, especially my mother, Lynn A. Robinson—for giving me life and a beautiful voice, loving me fiercely, supporting me in living my dreams, and teaching me always to give thanks, which has utterly graced my experience here; and my father, Mike Howell—for the unexpected gift of gear, plus long-ago lessons in setting up a parametric EQ, properly cleaning needles before you put them on records, and challenging authority figures with guts and love
Brent Winter—for being my adventure mate, archangel, and absolute favorite person on the planet. I am so grateful to have gone through this pandemic with you. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way (except maybe we could have spent a bit more time together, lol). Thank you for loving and supporting me in all the ways. Your generosity is astonishing, and you inspire me. Here’s to lightness, love—see how we fly!
you—for being here, listening, and floating with me above stones that breathe and through dewdrops, sunlit motes of dust, and dreamlike clouds over the ice mountains to the moon and stars and beyond
credits
released September 3, 2021
PRODUCTION—Produced, recorded, and mixed by Angela Winter; mastered by Beached Records, Preston, UK
PUBLISHING—Written and published by Angela Winter (ASCAP)
PERFORMANCES—Vocals, synths, piano, ukulele, and field recordings by Angela Winter; field recordings of the Apollo 11 launch and radio waves on “voyage to the moon” by NASA (public domain); field recording of wind on “beyond ice mountain” and “interstice” by Florian Reichelt @florianreichelt on freesound.org (CC0 license)
COVER DESIGN—Alyson Plante, Plante Creative Studio, Richmond, VA; cover photo by Dzmitry Tselabionak, @tsellobenok on Unsplash, Belarus
ALBUM PHOTOGRAPHY, DESIGN, AND ART DIRECTION—Photography by Chuck Cunningham, No Context Zine, @nocontextzine, Mebane, NC; design and art direction by Alyson Plante, Plante Creative Studio, Richmond, VA
Send sparkly bits and ephemera to: Winter Creative Studio, 304 W. Weaver St. Suite 230, Carrboro, NC 27510, USA
dedicated to Tim Carless (1966-2021)
©℗ 2021 Angela Winter, all rights reserved
