
Transmission #007: Espresso
Espresso There are no rushes here. Only the slow pour; a ribbon of darkness settling into porcelain. Espresso is not a playlist. It’s the measured inhale before the first sip.…
Espresso There are no rushes here. Only the slow pour; a ribbon of darkness settling into porcelain. Espresso is not a playlist. It’s the measured inhale before the first sip.…
Mad Men There are no anthems. Only moods, poured over ice, flicked from a match, exhaled in silence. Mad Men isn’t a playlist. It’s an after-hours reel of jazz lounges,…
Beneath the Jade Canopy There are no choruses. Only chimes; suspended in stillness, struck by time. Beneath the Jade Canopy is not a playlist. It is a threshold. A soundscape…
Echoes Beyond the Veil There are no lyrics. Only breath; stretched thin across time, across distance, across silence. Echoes Beyond the Veil is not a playlist. It’s a descent, or…
Morning in Amalfi Not all mornings begin with alarms. Some begin with open shutters, the scent of citrus, and a melody drifting in from somewhere just out of sight. Transmission…
Echoes of 1950 Love Not the feeling. The ghost of it. There was a time when love came by post.Stamped. Folded. Waited for. A time of rotary phones, of vinyl…
Bushidō Discipline. Silence. The Blade Within. Bushidō — the Way of the Warrior, is not a noise.It is not a shout, nor a clash of swords.It is a code, passed…