My mother listens to the radio, watches her TV soaps, and reads the newspaper simultaneously. She has learned to navigate her way through a chaotic world competing for her attention. She finds comfort in distraction and composes her world, her house and her ambience accordingly.
So does Erik Belgum, proponent of ambient fiction. Your attention can wander in and out of his printed literature or spoken word compositions (Horspiel) and you won’t know if you are daydreaming or he is. Strange Neonatal Cry spins a narrative like the spirals of a parking ramp, accompanied by music made on instruments that rotate: a structural confluence of architecture, sound, and consciousness.