Tanner Brockwell

An Artist in Residence

Entering the Hall of Memories

what if what we observe is only a snapshot of the totality of experience? quantum mechanics has much to say here, where observer and event intersect, the merest act of measuring an experience exerting a physical change to the fabric of this world.

the ancients talked of ariadne’s thread and how this thread could be followed, i would like to share with you this creation, my attempt to synthesize the very act of memory, the sum total elusive and yet interwoven with all we do. this is also the first example of a song exhibiting morphic genesis, reacting each time you listen with a tone and color of your very emotion.

if you imagine, you are an open book…

This is Audio Track: Hall of Memories.

The Ancient and the New

the ancient and the new by tanner brockwell
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The ancient and the new
And thusly there is
The deeper dwell or here
The hidden swell
The emergent underfoot
In spring arise to find
The seeds of autumn
Woke to sun rays
Melting snow and ice
And stretching head
And toes tip towards
Warming glow

Introspection

introspection by tanner brockwell
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introspection
reflection
companions shun
flicking pasts click
and smouldering whys
incinerating scents of myrth
more
the slim tapers of pale wax
lit for some feast
returning to a center
drawn like a finger trail
languid slow
the tip tingles
and punctuated
finally with this o

Softest Petals

the softest petals spread for the warming sun by tanner brockwell
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the softest petals spread for the warming sun
and after this after all
when we have yet just begun
the glowing air and dancing star
will lull us too that gentle sleep

No Umbrellas No

no umbrellas no by tanner brockwell
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no umbrellas no
past hesitations
past inhibitions
past the misses or glance
beyond all that you left behind
beyond some other time
beyond that old clime
when this is close
when we are so
when took to no limits
getting wet outside
getting close again
getting in the wildness
no umbrellas no

Rain Showers

rain showers by tanner brockwell
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rain showers
bring frolic hours
and drops well warm within
as steaming dance
in the very last
of dusky rays
in summer days
and closer feel
to everything
and closer
breathe the lingering sigh
and glancing up
you feel my gaze
has lifted tendrils
of tenuous mist
drifting across your ankles just
and rising as the this later hour
we find a need to retire
unto our inner bower
where warm moss becomes
a royal bed
and covering of warm skin on skin
we open now to
what can begin