Is this a review of Lune Rose’s Vimeo account, or a review of Lune Rose? Is it a review of □□□□? Is this a review of what it’s like to know someone who exists only in the periphery of my necessarily-only first-person perspective, except for one single sharp moment (two, if you count the other one)? I don’t mean sharp as in painful. I mean sharp like a surgical incision, not like a cut.
I put off writing this review for what feels like a year but may have been any other period of time. I’m sitting here in excruciating physical pain and have decided I can put it off no longer.
Lune, I know you’re reading this. I dreamt about you last night. We were in a vacation home and you smiled and invited me to your bedroom, but I couldn’t find where it was. There were many other parts of the dream with many other people. That was the only part I felt the need to commit to memory.
Lune Rose’s Vimeo account was something I binged in a night however long ago it may have been. I expected it to stop echoing in my mind. It did not. Here are some of the things I remember from that night.
The first visual art I’ve ever seen that made me feel like I was listening to music.
Layered rhythmic appearances and patterns of artifacting/visual effects leading to nearly pulsing body experiences. Compositionally interplaying fractions that find a way to drip. Presenting forgotten later-retconned experiences under harsh, bright, nostalgia-resistant light. Transcending “video” and becoming avant-reality.
Form dictates that if I had to compare Lune Rose’s Vimeo account to something, it would be 2001: A Space Odyssey. Many works can say they’ve parodied it, but few can say they step up to it, stare it in the face, and unfocus their eyes.
Thank you for the inspiration and thank you for the opportunity.