The First Seed's Electronic Art Party
Fallen Angels

hypnotized by the vapid sedating glare decisions are so much easier when forced through wide red rimmed eyes dripping sweetly into our subconscious desires. unattainable perfection produced for mass consumption thinly veiled by campaigns entrancing legions of potential collaborators fall neck first into the snare devoting their lives and blood to the unending pursuit of “material wealth.” empty minds and glazed eyes reflected in the sullen figures staring back from the mirror while another angel adorns every shimmering surface shiny enough that only stars can brighten and unify the pixels of the LED illuminating the cultural death that we relinquish in pursuit of peverted progress paving the way for a more complete control of their mindless subjects. congregations colliding only to collude into more powerful demons successively swallowing consoling and absolving all guilt and every minor who dares to stare long enough, leveraging altruism to allow aimed indulgences to lead their legacy and define life.

Heaven

deceptively tantalizing debris steers me closer to the edge desperately searching familiar shines of new polymers promising purchases of new and exiting escapes. scabbed kneed and worn fingernails gather dust and dirt as i resort to savagery, succumbed while scavenging in a way i’ve only condescended upon prior to this time. to live on infamous in my psyche and resurface when gestures prevail providing faint perspectives of heaven.

TTC

TTC: we all stare silently ingesting the common discomfort, the escape from the all pervasive reality of eyes seeking refuge from the monotony of the plutocracy. lost in the evasion of connections another stranger struggles to not be noticed. grey spills into dark as the low rumble encompases scant glances nervously concealed, touches illuminate the experience but one can only speculate as the cars jaggedly undulate the inconsistent rhythm suddenly comforting as the steel beast shatters the pitch the hollow corridors suspending tepid secrets as the underworld slinks away shadows hiding their scars and tortured indulgences damned by the past, present, despising the future pestilence extending the sardonic grimace ear to crusted ear. saliva from the cracked lips of ruined canvasses checkered with pride and indignation we all find our spots and empty places to rest our shifting eyes resisting temptous lears at the attractions we momentarily quell only to be left behind within the fantasies of “what if” as long as the memory persists. brave alternate paths where the challenger to my ego resides on podium, strong and reverberent strangely positioned between dreams and pathetic confusion. the inevitable collisions render respect or quick vile responses directed at compensated targets. we lust endlessly when the smallest connection slips through crude fingers digging at the stale recycled air. we all suffocate together - if only for a stop.

I’m so proud to be a part of this release - John Farah is one of the most talented, creative performers/composers I’ve ever worked with and he has been a true inspiration in music as well as life - Please check out the entire album - its phenomenal! 

Forget Me 2 : Miniature Digital Butterflies

Forget Me 2 : Miniature Digital Butterflies

Pink Pond Lily Glitch

Pink Pond Lily Glitch

Beyond The Treetops / Into My Heart

Beyond The Treetops / Into My Heart

Digital Sunrise

Digital Sunrise

Pink Tulip 2 Glitch

Pink Tulip 2 Glitch

Fracture 3

Fracture 3