The feeling returns
I don’t know exactly why this music and this image move me, but they do. Together, they bring back the amazement I felt as a child looking up at the sky.
The children running remind me of being outside—in the fields or along the streets—finding something beautiful wherever I looked. The colours of nature, the clouds overhead, and the stars appearing as the sky grew dark. I didn’t need to know their names to stop and look.
There is one memory that comes back especially clearly.
A light I almost touched
When I was little, my father took me with him to work. At one point, a friend of his was carrying me. It was dark, and an aeroplane was passing overhead, its red light blinking against the night sky.
I stretched out my hands towards it.
Somehow, from where I was being held, it seemed close enough to reach. My father’s friend noticed what I was trying to do and gently lowered me, playfully teasing me. I began to cry. I thought I had been so close—just a little higher, and I could have touched the plane.
He was only playing with me. But to me, that small blinking light was something I had almost held in my hands.
Now, when I listen to Constellations and look at this image, I remember that feeling. Not just the sky, but what it was like to look at it before I understood the distances.
Let the afternoon unfold
An imagined landscape in motion · 00:33
Video music · Metrik — Dawnbreaker
A soundtrack for the journey
Fred V & Grafix Constellations
Official SoundCloud upload / preview. Load the player below, or listen on SoundCloud.
Perhaps that is why I keep returning to this music and this wallpaper. They remind me of my childhood, and of how easily an ordinary moment could become something extraordinary.
I know now how far away that plane was. But I still remember reaching.
— I. Urazov