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News from the Oort Cloud

by Andrew Livingston

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    limited run CD edition of News from the Oort Cloud with art that lets you see inside Andrew's head

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1.
Pilot Light 04:06
When we were children, shells of cicadas clinged to our sleeves. Time loses track of alpha and omega and when to leave. Nostalgia is the pilot light. My heart is flowered burning tonight.
2.
A Moment 02:54
3.
4.
Hearth 03:39
Come with me now to our warm hearth. We can rest now in everlasting arms. There’s a fork here. You must choose now. Come back to me or reap what he earth endows.
5.
There’s no more day or night. It's always both. It's an endless flight. A solemn oath never to return to substantial gravity. I’m not awake or asleep. Space is hostile, but nothing ever happens to me.
6.
7.
Outpost 02:06
We’re millions of miles beyond your last chance. Its OK. Your soul still remembers the steps of this dance. I’ll be your outpost and you can be mine. Maybe we’ll look back sometime
8.
Ghosts cling to their hosts And yet beauty becomes them at high wind. Far from our feeble eyes, they dissolve again. Yet beauty becomes them at high winds. Far from our feeble eyes they dissolve again. Ghosts cling to their hosts...
9.
Night Cometh 01:37
10.
Psalm 103 03:11
But as for the man. His days are as grass. As a flower of the field, so he flourishes. But the wind passes over it. And it is gone. And the place thereof shall know it no more. (2X)
11.
Moon Pigeon 01:55
I am falling into your range of view. But I will not come too close to you. Now I’m leaving you (now I’m leaving)
12.
Blankets of solitude, Distance is my shroud. Earth’s just an ancient beacon here from the Oort Cloud. Tranquility is stretched out cold and compete. I see all possible fates set to repeat. Without me...
13.
14.
I can’t help guide you. I’m lost myself.
15.

about

Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

-- Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

credits

released December 17, 2018

Written, performed, and produced by Andrew Livingston
Mastered by Alan Douches
Art by Dr J. Shulman and Andrew Livingston

Gold Bolus Recordings // GBR039
www.goldbolus.com

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Andrew Livingston New York

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