the darkness for Edwin Honig

small hasapi recorded at Eyebeam, through the vibrations
of wood and metal and later i heard Edwin Honig died, he
had been my friend and advisor at Brown

everything is shaken to pieces, the skull refuses
transmigration, nothing recirculates, what dies is damned,
lies, slammed

People: Alan Sondheim
Research: Sound
Tags: death, sound, research, eyebeam

I have now the entire text "Krasis" posted online on my website:


- From Monika Weiss; we're collaborating in a few months. I respect her work incredibly; she works with uncomfortable issues of history, memory, mourning, lamentation... - please check out.


- Alan


last night at Eyebeam... a revelation...

sex, yes... and death, yes... are inextricably entangled...
am i the first to notice this, Agave? they're both
hard to swallow, and yes, surely i'm the first to call
orgasm the 'little death' which only grows with a thud
into the big One? every point i make is broken with delight
against the corpse of sex, the messy spew of death. wait
a minute, there's more, all sorts of things of bones
growing after the brain stops, what sort of ugly repeating
shatters geometries into the semblance of Becoming?


even after death it keeps yammering, yakking away

as much sense as when it was alive

somebody gave birth to this monstrosity

it won't ever shut up


the stench is everywhere

it's offensive


From: Monika Weiss <>

To: Alan Sondheim <>

On Fissure


bloody mess it is these days in me head an yours

hell its falling apart down your dress an all


in silence here

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