Fang Talks

Lua is love. Lua is life.

A quickly cooling summer night, that saddening smell of autumn in the air.

Our terrace, a beautiful view. The wind lays down for the tiniest while. And just in that moment, everything was silent. Everything was silent, except for the quiet ones. Like a door had opened, revealing just for a second, a second, hidden part to your artsy living room. Short it may be, it seems to last forever; time has slowed down.

Sounds you’ve never heard before, of the rare few crickets in the dog park, or the chirping of a bat flying by. The whirring of a car driving around. A careful thump of a shed door closing, the popping and crackling of your joint, and the playful bickering of an old couple somewhere in the distance. The gentle, laid-back drum of your heart, audibly sending your blood rushing through your veins. The tiniest, subtlest cues of what is happening both in and around you, everything the clearest indication of its associated event.

An awfully interesting collection of subtle sounds emerges. It presents us with the opportunity to inspect everything, individually, attentively. But then, the very next moment, you decide it’s getting too cold. And it is. So you head inside and make yourself comfortable there instead.

Yes I am the king of comma, but that “second” one was on purpose.
~ Fang


  • 19/09/2016 (12:21 PM)

    I’m in a strange position where I both love and hate silence. I think it’s fair to say I hate silence but love the sound of silence; those tiny imperceptible noises you wouldn’t have gotten to hear otherwise.

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