Dark soundscape with growling beasts heard through the mists of radio transmissions from another world.
Voidborn – a word that, for me, references a plethora of definitions. The term, as applied to this second track from The Long Night, means that which is born in the inner void, the inner space of stillness… In a more inclusive fashion, it can mean born in the void of space… As are we all. We are, in all likelihood, descendants of the star, Sol, and although I wasn’t there for it’s birth, I’m fairly certain it was born in the void of space. Thus, there is an analogy between this inner void of the self, and the void into which our star was birthed.
What we are is formed from the formless. A blank. A void. A place resplendent with a lack of features or definitions, the essence of nothingness, and an empty slate…. When I say, “what we are,” I’m not referring to our physical selves of molecules and ordered shapes of flesh and bone, but rather our personalities, our character, our souls, our essence…. This state, like the void state that precedes it, is and will always be ephemeral, as we are in a constant state of flux, redefining what and why, reshaping our demeanor and attitude with the powerful scepter of thought, casting down those pieces that we do not value, elevating those which we deem important. While we may not be able to exert much control over our physical selves, the world around us, or others that share this realm with us, we do have tremendous power to shape that which is within and what we let out….
There is absolutely no reason that we need to be shaped by shit we don’t want, don’t admire, or that bring no joy. What is the point of only following the path cut by someone else? Is it actually easier, does it bring you more joy, peace, or whatever it is that you really want…? Are you simply filling yourself up with things that, like things in a house, simply take up space, you end up walking around, burying under piles of papers, books, or other detritus, only to realize after stubbing your toe on the cast iron pot you were going to turn into a planter some two decades ago…. throw it away, for fucksake…. Leave it behind, gift it to someone who wants it… So, what cast iron thing lurks in your mind, in your heart, in your essence….?
Voidborn is, for me, an audio metaphor for this process of dying, becoming empty, being birthed, and consciously choosing those pieces you want to keep. It’s a struggle, all this birthing, choosing, fighting, and dying of oneself…. Messy business. Yet it is so worthwhile, to thrash about in the pit of your essence, picking up bits of mud to shape into something beautiful, tearing off and casting away the ugly bits… And staying open to being in a somewhat constant state of doing this, for whether we are aware of it or not, this process goes on with us, with everything, all the time. Trying to stay aware of it, practicing at it, continually creating the best version of you that you can conceptualize,. Empty often, and from that void, birth….