Naked and submerged in a salty solution, in total darkness and with every outside impression shut out, your body becomes the only anchor and your thoughts the only stop. Your movements make waves roll towards the sides of the isolation tank but as they roll back towards the body, they encounter a body that no longer exists. Fallen into the consciousness, the heart is the metronome and the breath the engine or the other way around, images project onto the retina. Multiple exposures in glimpses. Déjà vus from a common genetic memory.
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You're traveling along the road, the beaten road and out into the young country with the old soul, where the desert is the frame and the ocean a mirror or the other way around, conjuring up visions of artifacts, and animals emerge from the deep. Spirit animals put on skins and dance in a circle around the roaring machine.


(from the press release for Mustang Twilight)



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