003. One Thousand and One Nights DIGITAL
These are the stories we tell ourselves when the stakes are so high we feel we might perish. This is how we keep death at bay—by weaving allusive tales. We spread open the night sky to watch stars form into shapes, to better understand ourselves, our place in the grand universe—in which we are microscopic specs. We sit across one another, tears or smiles lining our cheeks, and hum a song to an ancestral beat. The oral tradition that nurtured us to life; story as essential as milk. Those long nights punctuated by story-telling—they entertain and sustain us. Those carvings into the cave wall, a set of instructions and warnings told through story and life.
Come prolong the night with us. Our stories are layered, nested into one another—each microcosm so deeply rooted into the macrocosm that you might get lost in it.
These are the stories we tell ourselves when the stakes are so high we feel we might perish. This is how we keep death at bay—by weaving allusive tales. We spread open the night sky to watch stars form into shapes, to better understand ourselves, our place in the grand universe—in which we are microscopic specs. We sit across one another, tears or smiles lining our cheeks, and hum a song to an ancestral beat. The oral tradition that nurtured us to life; story as essential as milk. Those long nights punctuated by story-telling—they entertain and sustain us. Those carvings into the cave wall, a set of instructions and warnings told through story and life.
Come prolong the night with us. Our stories are layered, nested into one another—each microcosm so deeply rooted into the macrocosm that you might get lost in it.
These are the stories we tell ourselves when the stakes are so high we feel we might perish. This is how we keep death at bay—by weaving allusive tales. We spread open the night sky to watch stars form into shapes, to better understand ourselves, our place in the grand universe—in which we are microscopic specs. We sit across one another, tears or smiles lining our cheeks, and hum a song to an ancestral beat. The oral tradition that nurtured us to life; story as essential as milk. Those long nights punctuated by story-telling—they entertain and sustain us. Those carvings into the cave wall, a set of instructions and warnings told through story and life.
Come prolong the night with us. Our stories are layered, nested into one another—each microcosm so deeply rooted into the macrocosm that you might get lost in it.