De.Flower))(((a Capella

On desires drifting & glitching us up to monuments of dislocated directions and void.

Preview, winter 2016.

Memento Mori.

Meanwhile they are phasing some artificial echoes

Through their feedback soul loops of constant emergencies,

As if they were audible

As if geometry were decorative

As if the universe were just a white noise lullaby


Here are some balcony tickets for the last spasm of the noir ballet of glitching flowers.