Walking through the gates of grief

When writing “Gates of grief” I imagine this architectural object, weary with all the grieving that have passed it. However what I have in my hand is a beige cardboard folder, warm to the hand, which holds a white cassette, and in it – chants and drones of grief which became my companion over these years.

It seems that grief has been at my side for a while now. Since the day I started noticing the collapse, and it took a while to take the scope of the disaster in. Since the day I saw a huge area of felled trees, all dead or dying just so there’s more coal to mine, just so there’s more energy to waste. Since I started paying more attention to the news about those in the sea, those in the desert, those in the fire, those under water. Since the day I heard one of my friend commit suicide. Since the day I heard one more of my friends commit suicide, just 4 days after the first one. Since the seemingly never ending chain of disastrous events started spinning to the point that death count became a regular number in the news. How many other “since”? I know not. Now it just seems endless, and as if it’s been there forever. It transforms, taking shape of sound, tear, pain, anger, love, dream, and it will keep on doing so.

As hurtful as all of the above is, what I discovered through all this grieving, is the entire entangled world of those that grieve and love together, and if anything, the grief has made me more empathetic, more caring, and more aware.

It’s hard to release a piece of work that had been so intimate. But I’ve found that grieving, albeit so intimate, is at the same time something we can connect through. And maybe this is what I seek – a (re)connection which is, alas, no more possible. However, what is possible, is to have this attempt to remember.

And working on this album was, as well, a work of remembering. And I am extremely grateful to people that have been close to me in order to help this album happen. Special thanks goes to Vytenis Eitminavičius, for his humble ear and great feedback, discussions as well as graphic solution for the design of the cassette and technical solutions for the cardboard box architecture.

The album is available via my Bandcamp, you can also find it on Discogs or just get in touch to ask. The revenue for this album will go to support animal shelter Associazione Cuore Randagio Rosolini. 

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