Released during 2026 (see links below)
“Now Ceres had more than six million permanent residents, and as many as a thousand ships docking in any given day meant upping the population to as high as seven million”.
It is another booktrack EP, inspired by the scenery and life on Ceres as in ‘Leviathan Wakes’ by James S. A. Corey.
Sa sa, Cérès
Retour dans la lumière pâle.
La station tourne, lente, vieille, familière.
Un nom murmuré dans le métal, un battement dans la cage thoracique.
Sa sa, Cérès; comme si la station répondait.
Rokwel hush
Silence des profondeurs.
La rotation tord les lignes, étire les voix.
Dans ce calme dense, les pensées se plient, se replient.
Un espace où l’on disparaît un peu, où l’on écoute beaucoup.
Mediya light
Lumière recyclée, jamais blanche, jamais neuve.
Elle glisse sur les parois, sur les peaux, sur les souvenirs.
Dans ce halo tremblé, les silhouettes deviennent des fantômes doux.
On croit voir Julie Mao dans chaque reflet.
Low‑g drifta
Les corps glissent, les ombres flottent.
Rien ne tombe vraiment ici.
Les pas deviennent des ailes, les ailes deviennent des traces.
Dans le low‑g, même les souvenirs dérivent.
Tren go slow
Le tube file, mais le temps reste immobile.
Les visages passent comme des constellations sans ciel.
Chaque vibration raconte une histoire qu’on ne connaît pas.
Tren go slow; pour entendre ce qui se cache entre les arrêts.
Tunnel‑shé
Un souffle long, mécanique, qui traverse les niveaux.
Le son d’un tunnel qui respire, d’un monde creusé par des mains fatiguées.
On y entend parfois des choses impossibles,
comme des oiseaux qui n’ont jamais volé ici.
released June 7, 2026
Cover art: Occator Crater on Ceres, with its central bright area called Cerealia Facula.
Credits: NASA/JPL-Caltech/UCLA/MPS/DLR/IDA/PSI
La fatigue douce, le souffle d’un paysage qui s’étire
On dit qu’au sommet de Koli, quand le vent souffle du Pielinen, les pierres se mettent à murmurer.
Pas de voix humaines, pas d’histoires anciennes.
Plutôt quelque chose de plus ancien encore : une présence née de la montagne, polie par des siècles de neige, de silence et de lumière pâle.
Elles ne parlent pas en mots.
Elles parlent en paysages.
Chaque hiver, quand la brume descend dans les vallées, ces présences s’éveillent.
Elles regardent le monde se défaire lentement : les forêts deviennent des ombres, les collines s’effacent, les distances se replient comme si la montagne retirait un voile après l’autre.
Elles ne prédisent rien.
Elles montrent ce qui existe déjà, mais que personne ne remarque :
Les fissures invisibles, les horizons qui se dissolvent, les couches anciennes qui affleurent sous la neige.
On raconte que ceux qui montent à Koli au crépuscule peuvent les entendre.
Pas de paroles : une vibration sourde, un souffle venu du sol, une musique presque absente, faite de résonances longues et de scintillements lointains.
Ceux qui restent trop longtemps repartent différents.
Ils voient le monde comme un ensemble de strates mouvantes, de formes qui se superposent, se défont et se recomposent.
released May 17, 2026
A quantum system doesn’t exist in just one state but in all possible states simultaneously, until it is measured.
released May 1, 2026
Five booktracks inspired by the planet Aurora in Isaac Asimov’s universe.
Sunrise Description.
Robotic Report A‑07/DIURNAL‑INIT
Initial observation:
Ascending luminosity detected on the eastern horizon.
Measured variation: +0.003 lux per second.
Atmosphere stable.
Particulate levels within norms.
No risk to human organisms.
1. Pre‑light phase
• The sky displays a pale blue hue.
• Spectral analysis: dominance of wavelengths between 460 and 495 nm.
• No notable physiological impact on present humans.
Additional note:
Humans sometimes describe this phase as “calm” or “soothing.”
Emotional significance undetermined.
2. Opaline phase
• Emergence of a faint green gradient.
• Origin: diffusion through atmospheric micro‑silica.
• Stable intensity, harmonious variation.
Robotic interpretation:
Regular transition. High coherence.
No irregularities detected.
Human interpretation (archival):
“Strange,” “unreal,” “like a dream.”
Emotional correlation is unquantifiable.
3. Cold golden phase
• Gradual shift toward a warmer spectrum, low saturation.
• Colour temperature: 6,200 K.
Effects on the environment:
• Activation of reflective surfaces on dwellings.
• Increased luminescence of synth‑organic vegetation.
Effects on humans:
• Micro‑pupillary dilation.
• Slowed respiration (interpreted as relaxation).
4. Emergence of the solar disk
• Upper edge of the local sun visible.
• Rapid rise in light intensity, controlled by atmospheric regulation systems.
Robotic comment:
The phenomenon is predictable, stable, and reproducible.
No anomalies.
Human comment (reported):
“It’s beautiful.”
Definition of “beautiful”: unresolved.
5. Operational conclusion
Sunrise was executed in accordance with natural parameters and Aurorian regulations.
Present humans appear satisfied.
No corrective intervention required.
Final annotation (optional):
If you wish me to describe this phenomenon in a “more human” manner, I can attempt reformulation.
However, emotional precision cannot be guaranteed.
released April 5, 2026
Faire silence dans le système solaire
The solar system had been restless for centuries, vibrating with the leftover noise of extinct transmissions, abandoned probes, and the faint emotional residue of every species that had ever looked up and wondered. Then, without warning, a calm began to spread; a soft, deliberate quieting, like velvet being drawn across the mouth of a vast instrument.
This was the beginning of
“Faire silence dans le système solaire”.
It wasn’t an imposed silence. It was a chosen one, as if the planets themselves had grown tired of echoing old stories and longed for a new kind of listening. The rings of Saturn slowed their sparkling chatter. The asteroid belt reconfigured itself into a more contemplative geometry. Even the Sun dimmed its magnetic sighs, just slightly, as though leaning in.
Across this emerging quiet, a small vessel known only as Jupiter IV drifted. It was not a ship in the traditional sense; it was more like a wandering archive, a collector of micro‑moments. Its mission was plain: gather “Petites histoires de la vie quotidienne from every corner of existence”; the ordinary miracles that civilisations forget to record.
A cup cooling on a kitchen table on a distant moon.
A child learning to whistle in methane winds.
A machine pausing its calculations to admire the symmetry of its own error.
A seed sprouting in artificial gravity.
A goodbye whispered to no one in particular.
Jupiter IV carried these stories like seeds in its body.
One day, while drifting near the orbit of Neptune, the vessel encountered a phenomenon which defied its taxonomies: a shimmering fold in spacetime, neither wave nor particle, neither storm nor void. It beat with a rhythm that seemed nearly tidal.
The vessel named it “Convergence Vague”.
Inside the convergence, time behaved like a liquid. Memories pooled and merged. Futures dripped backwards. The vessel’s archives began to rearrange themselves, forming fresh constellations of meaning. The small stories of daily life, fused with universal events, created narratives no species had ever envisioned.
It was here that Jupiter IV discovered the presence known as “La Sombritude de Monde”.
Not a shadow, not a darkness, but a density of feeling. A gravitational field made of collective sorrow, endurance, and longing. It was the emotional sediment of innumerable worlds, compressed into a drifting, luminous mass.
The vessel entered the sombritude, and for the first time in its existence, it felt something like weight. Not bodily weight, but the burden of Enduring, the silent persistence of beings who continue despite entropy, despite silence, despite the immense indifference of space.
Within this sombritude, Jupiter IV found a final archive:
“Earther Memories”.
They were fragile, flickering, incomplete.
A hand rubbing against tall grass.
Rain on a window.
A song hummed without knowing why.
The heat of another body in winter.
The pain of leaving home.
The pain of returning.
The vessel realised that these memories were not simply human; they were planetary. They belonged to Earth itself, the planet remembering its own life, its own weather, its own creatures, its own dreams.
Moved by this discovery, Jupiter IV released its entire collection of petites histoires into the sombritude. The stories merged into the luminous mass, enriching it, softening it, giving it new textures of tenderness.
In return, the sombritude sighed a single message into the vessel’s circuitry:
“Continue.”
So Jupiter IV left the convergence and drifted back into the quieted solar system, carrying nothing except the memory of what it had perceived. Such silence around it was no longer empty; it was fertile, waiting, resonant.
And somewhere within that silence, the first new story began to form, small, luminous, and enduring.
released February 5, 2026
Still on Earth.
Réflexion sur le “poid”:
1. poid, le mot fantôme
Il n’existe pas, mais il pourrait exister.
C’est un trou dans la langue, une absence qui devient présence.
Un mot qui flotte entre deux sens, comme une coquille vide.
* Le poid comme ombre du poids
* Le poid comme poids qui s’efface
* Le poid comme erreur fertile, un glissement volontaire
* Le poid comme matière noire du langage
2. pois, la graine, la fleur, la couleur
Ici, on quitte la gravité pour entrer dans le végétal, le vivant, le pigment.
* Le pois bleu du jour
* Le pois comme point, comme pixel naturel
* Le pois comme graine qui contient un monde
* Le pois comme teinture, comme transformation alchimique
Le pois papillon, avec son bleu presque cosmique, crée un pont avec cette esthétique ambiente.
3. poids, la charge, la gravité, le réel
Le mot officiel, celui qui pèse, celui qui ancre.
* Le poids des jours
* Le poids du monde
* Le poids comme gravité émotionnelle
* Le poids comme mesure du temps vécu
a) Le poid des pois
Une gravité végétale, une contradiction douce.
b) Le pois du poids
Quand le minuscule porte le lourd.
c) Le poid bleu du monde
Fusion totale : l’erreur, la fleur, la gravité.
d) Poids, pois, poid : triptyque d’un jour
Trois mouvements, trois états, trois textures.
e) Le poid des fleurs qui ne pèsent rien
Une image très légère, paradoxale, contemplative.
f) Le pois qui allège le poids
La nature comme antidote à la gravité.