Visions (First Movement)Hierophany Heresiarch Scientific method Interface Dryad Fusion Gaia Magic bullet Scientific method – 2 Puzzle Prayer Parent Pierce Entropy E Personal Jardin public à Bellac (Haute-Vienne) Disposition Vista
Theme and variations - Mirror (2nd Movement)La déesse des blés et des maïs Variation on a theme of Baudelaire White lilac La fille aux cheveux de lin Essence Snake Dance Ille mi par esse deo videtur Her jewels Image Come away with me Daisy chain Kyalyuvat
Rondo (3rd Movement)
Andante (4th Movement)
Finale - Goddess (5th Movement)Zeitgeist All of creation Ballad of the Golden Cow Countdown Requiem for the late tragic events Spectator sport Bushmeat Letter to a chimpanzee
into the park across to the fallen tree, chopped apart, and the cry of a quail: a busy hunt for a stray unidentified call in the scrub, count the songs of Bewick’s Wrens, wander idly round a bush snag a bramble bending down thinking of nothing: head up to the lookout then down through the camas, wading through a pool of rippled blue into a wave of warm perfume, a bank of wallflowers, burnt umber, butter yellow, orange rust; a hummingbird in orbit around a magnolia flower’s creamy calyx: a courtship of gulls, ordered and formal, a slow motion square dance, --bow to your partner, offer a twig or a piece of grass, she sidles away not very far and busies herself with a suitable pebble but startled by a quick black crow, they fly away in unison. street corner boys, the crows, vigilantes cosa nostra clamour, Luftwaffe squadron out on strafe, Stuka divers, raptor cops; collectively, intelligence no lab report can measure: don’t get in their black books. down at the pond the widgeon are restless, time to be off: they don’t have much to pass the time, no diversions to distract them, only blind fear, and food, and propagation of their kind: and here, the lone Eurasian male stands out among the drab grey females, the green eyed males, truly another species, smart silver-sided chestnut headed alien, never far from the side of his lady, who, as far as he knows, is the only female of his kind in the whole wide municipal park and beyond, her faintly russet head no blemish to the scores of rivals who would take her from him. small wonder then they stick together, this pair: admire the subtle comedy of his devoted tyranny: yet they are myth- Tristan and Isolde, yes, why not? heroine and hero pure essence of biology, the cutting edge of a species in expansion? getting late: earth oriented natural man looks at the sun to tell the time, orients in space- time, in gestalt no clocks no props knows west, knows when, but if my sun were in the north, I’d calibrate my hunger to a different time of day, the earlier the later the other way: and think a bit: what if I were an Arctic Tern, commuting to the southern ocean every year, round trip, there and return, what then? I wouldn’t know which way to turn. getting late: the eagle trailing a banner of agitated gulls, yelling and protesting, loudly dwindling away in the distance across the harbour turning inland, soaring downwind toward a rather large dark orange moon.