THE RECORD

FOSSILIZING THE END OF TIME
 A record contains both the visual symbolism of the mandala and the acoustic symbolism 
of sound that is arranged cyclically in a rotation independent 
of the external space and time in which it is situated. 
The physical structure of the record contains the utopic diagram   
of the logarithmic spiral journey of the soul towards a timeless center 
embedded in the archetypal passage of the needle from the outer rim 
to the inner “endless silence” of the central groove. 
Thus, the end of each spiral journey is framed by SILENCE.
Paul Laffoley’s logarithmic diagram of Utopic Space


The logarithmic mandala of the vinyl record
 Just as sound depends on empty space to resonate, 
the silence at the inner core of the record plays an essential part 
in the experience of its rotation. 

When emptiness is, sound can be. 

When silence is, music can be. 

Just as the record preserves time, it also preserves the end of time. 

The end of time preserves the Hyparctic Song. 

When time ends, NOW can be.

questions //comments // contact princeramaofayodhya@gmail.com 
//design by ancientminimal//
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6 Comments

  1. Posted May 9, 2012 at 8:40 pm | Permalink | Reply

    How can something that does not exit end? How can something that does not end exist?

  2. Posted September 20, 2013 at 10:35 am | Permalink | Reply

    ^ Second q: time.
    First q: hmmm (obviously not baked enough..)

  3. jgtwentysix
    Posted October 10, 2015 at 6:43 am | Permalink | Reply

    I like it, however the disco ball can’t “illuminate the darkest of rooms” without a source of light to reflect, just like the moon can’t light up the darkest of skies without sunlight. This supports your point that it is a perfect reflection of the environment but without an outside source, it reflects darkness. Are we making the leap that darkness is illuminating because, in it’s presence, outside distractions melt away and our unconscious, inner reality can be more readily accessed? I think we just did.

  4. BK
    Posted April 15, 2016 at 10:14 pm | Permalink | Reply

    Seriously, John Leguizamo just hiked his pants up to his armpits and started waddling around my ping pong table. He is waaaay too drunk to fix my fence like he promised.

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