I am not sure whether you experienced this or not, but sometimes, feeling often show up before language does. And it comes in the form of sensation, which makes it unclear and hard to articulate. It’s that emotion of carrying something around for a while before knowing what to do with it.

To me, these moments sometimes come through music, other times through images, while other times through any other form of art. But what connects them all besides the things I am experiencing is that only later, I find words that come close to what I felt.

This curation came together through moments like that. Encounters with works that didn’t explain themselves to me, and didn’t seem interested in being understood right away. They met me where I was, without asking for interpretation first. I didn’t always know why they stayed with me, only that they did. I still feel that I don’t know.

Some of these works came through sound, others through technology, while others came through a totally different medium. The reason I chose them is that they left a similar trace in me, a feeling that something had moved inward, even if I couldn’t yet say what it was.

I’m still learning how limited my own categories are, and how quickly I separate things in my mind, and this curation sits exactly somewhere between my assumptions.

Untitled by Sunshine

I remember noticing my own resistance here.

What pulled me in wasn’t just the idea that this work emerged from quantum processes, but the experience of standing in front of something that didn’t seem to care whether I understood it or not.

I don’t usually associate quantum technology with intimacy. When I think about it, it feels abstract and distant, almost sterile. But this piece felt strangely alive.

It made me realize how often I assume that feeling belongs only to certain mediums. As if emotion has rules about where it’s allowed to appear. This piece stayed with me because it challenged that assumption. It reminded me that emotion shows up wherever attention is present, even in places we assume are too complex or too removed from us.

The full piece can be experienced here.

Palomas y Cordajes by Dúo Dø

Some gestures feel emotional without trying to be.

Watching Santiago play the guitar feels like that to me.

Every time I return to this piece, I notice the ease in his movement, which feels like being fully inside the act itself rather than performance. It’s a kind of presence that takes me somewhere familiar.

I think of my father dancing. Different body, different moment, but the same kind of surrender to rhythm.

When Clementine’s voice comes in, everything shifts. The guitar softens, and the space between the notes opens up. I don’t fully understand the language, but I don’t feel shut out by it either. The song simply gives me room to imagine.

This is the kind of work that makes me want to stay with it a little longer. To listen again, to let it settle and become part of my own emotional memory.

UNA CAUSA PERDIDA by Oswaldo Torres

I first encountered this piece without the visuals. Just the sound and the voice, and it stayed with me longer than I expected it to.

There was something fragile in it, in the sense of being exposed. It didn’t feel like it was trying to protect itself.

When I later watched the video, the experience changed, but it didn’t lose its weight. If anything, it became heavier in a subtle way. The emotion didn’t come from scale or complexity, but from restraint, from allowing the song to be exactly what it is.

This is one of those works waits for me. And when I meet it with the same patience, it opens slowly, leaving something behind that’s difficult to point to directly.

Flames by Black Dave

From the first listen, this track felt like movement. With each listen, I felt like being carried forward.

I return to it when my inner rhythm slows too much or when motivation thins. There’s something grounding in how it gathers familiar influences and turns them into momentum.

It reminds me that care doesn’t always look like gentleness. Sometimes it looks like activation, and sometimes lifting yourself requires heat.

A hard Xmas Party by STTSM

I encountered this piece around last Christmas.

It pulled me into a possible future, one where celebration feels louder, stranger, and more entangled with technology than tradition. Watching it, I found myself thinking about how rituals change over time. What we keep, what we distort, and what slowly disappears.

Christmas has always meant something to me because of what it represents and promises at its core. This piece didn’t give me answers about that. It simply placed a mirror slightly ahead of me and made me wonder who we’re becoming, and how we’ll choose to gather when meaning starts to blur.

The full piece can be experienced here.

Each one of these works stays open, the way feelings do, changing depending on when and how I meet them.

My realization after this curation, and my invitation to you, is to notice where feelings appear in your own encounters and to allow them to exist before you name them because emotion doesn’t lose its depth when it passes through unfamiliar forms.

Thank you!🌹

Eduard🌹

I am not sure whether you experienced this or not, but sometimes, feeling often show up before language does. And it comes in the form of sensation, which makes it unclear and hard to articulate. It’s that emotion of carrying something around for a while before knowing what to do with it.

To me, these moments sometimes come through music, other times through images, while other times through any other form of art. But what connects them all besides the things I am experiencing is that only later, I find words that come close to what I felt.

This curation came together through moments like that. Encounters with works that didn’t explain themselves to me, and didn’t seem interested in being understood right away. They met me where I was, without asking for interpretation first. I didn’t always know why they stayed with me, only that they did. I still feel that I don’t know.

Some of these works came through sound, others through technology, while others came through a totally different medium. The reason I chose them is that they left a similar trace in me, a feeling that something had moved inward, even if I couldn’t yet say what it was.

I’m still learning how limited my own categories are, and how quickly I separate things in my mind, and this curation sits exactly somewhere between my assumptions.

Untitled by Sunshine

I remember noticing my own resistance here.

What pulled me in wasn’t just the idea that this work emerged from quantum processes, but the experience of standing in front of something that didn’t seem to care whether I understood it or not.

I don’t usually associate quantum technology with intimacy. When I think about it, it feels abstract and distant, almost sterile. But this piece felt strangely alive.

It made me realize how often I assume that feeling belongs only to certain mediums. As if emotion has rules about where it’s allowed to appear. This piece stayed with me because it challenged that assumption. It reminded me that emotion shows up wherever attention is present, even in places we assume are too complex or too removed from us.

The full piece can be experienced here.

Palomas y Cordajes by Dúo Dø

Some gestures feel emotional without trying to be.

Watching Santiago play the guitar feels like that to me.

Every time I return to this piece, I notice the ease in his movement, which feels like being fully inside the act itself rather than performance. It’s a kind of presence that takes me somewhere familiar.

I think of my father dancing. Different body, different moment, but the same kind of surrender to rhythm.

When Clementine’s voice comes in, everything shifts. The guitar softens, and the space between the notes opens up. I don’t fully understand the language, but I don’t feel shut out by it either. The song simply gives me room to imagine.

This is the kind of work that makes me want to stay with it a little longer. To listen again, to let it settle and become part of my own emotional memory.

UNA CAUSA PERDIDA by Oswaldo Torres

I first encountered this piece without the visuals. Just the sound and the voice, and it stayed with me longer than I expected it to.

There was something fragile in it, in the sense of being exposed. It didn’t feel like it was trying to protect itself.

When I later watched the video, the experience changed, but it didn’t lose its weight. If anything, it became heavier in a subtle way. The emotion didn’t come from scale or complexity, but from restraint, from allowing the song to be exactly what it is.

This is one of those works waits for me. And when I meet it with the same patience, it opens slowly, leaving something behind that’s difficult to point to directly.

Flames by Black Dave

From the first listen, this track felt like movement. With each listen, I felt like being carried forward.

I return to it when my inner rhythm slows too much or when motivation thins. There’s something grounding in how it gathers familiar influences and turns them into momentum.

It reminds me that care doesn’t always look like gentleness. Sometimes it looks like activation, and sometimes lifting yourself requires heat.

A hard Xmas Party by STTSM

I encountered this piece around last Christmas.

It pulled me into a possible future, one where celebration feels louder, stranger, and more entangled with technology than tradition. Watching it, I found myself thinking about how rituals change over time. What we keep, what we distort, and what slowly disappears.

Christmas has always meant something to me because of what it represents and promises at its core. This piece didn’t give me answers about that. It simply placed a mirror slightly ahead of me and made me wonder who we’re becoming, and how we’ll choose to gather when meaning starts to blur.

The full piece can be experienced here.

Each one of these works stays open, the way feelings do, changing depending on when and how I meet them.

My realization after this curation, and my invitation to you, is to notice where feelings appear in your own encounters and to allow them to exist before you name them because emotion doesn’t lose its depth when it passes through unfamiliar forms.

Thank you!🌹

Eduard🌹