For a long time now her days had followed an unforgiving pattern (city life!) that made her feel like she was forever opening a book, reading a page, growing bored, closing the book.
Fragments of a Season is a narrative addition to the album of the same name by Alexis Georgopoulos and Jefre Cantu-Ledesma.
Printed on the back cover and liner notes, the story follows the temporal dips and rises of the record's emotional arc, and is ideally read while experiencing the music.
She stood on the quay listening to the lap of waves, shielding her eyes against the high white sun, the skin-prick of weatherless heat. Above her and around her, the sky and the ocean warped at their own expansive edges, but straight ahead the island rose in a stony incline. Clustered structures domed and curving, or hard-edged and geometric. Whitewashed stucco linked by the zigzag of staircases, the bloom of bougainvillea, and shadows, at this time of the afternoon, cutting hard-edged planes. She had entered a painting. Fisherman unloaded their glimmering nets. Children splashed beneath the stone face of a god streaming water. In a way she couldn’t quite parse, she understood how myths had been born here: fickle deities and marble muses, the elemental and the immortal. And she understood, too, a connection between what she could see and smell and feel (the sun burning her scalp and the tang of salt in the air) and a stranger spirit, something abstract from her own five senses.