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Technicolour Education

by Only A Visitor

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    Artwork by Patrick Cruz

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  • Cassette + Digital Album

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Big and small want to be together It could only happen out of doors Only a meeting on the move Circumnavigate Only a meeting on the move By circumstance The necessary trips for business Says small The rare visit to distant family Says big Seeing each other in the spaces That don’t exist Like the security line up At an airport Waiting for a train underground At a wrong turn Like a folded Map of the world Temporary permanent
43 Years 04:24
I didn't see my wife for 43 years We were each married to two different people One in our minds one over the sea Watching the others Being together I make up stories (of things we do) I make up stories (together) I send money to my wife Write to her that I am fine, I am fine I don't tell her about I don't tell her about the walks in the park we have together I don't tell her about our fat little children I don't tell her about the midnight swims in the ocean I don't tell her about the parties we throw for our friends My shadow, alone, falls into the water These sentences fall out of my heart They miss the page, you miss your part
Legacy 04:29
North from California Eastward from the sea Labour from the orient Riches that they seek Purchasing a promise With weathered broken bones Told to look elsewhere to build their homes 40 years thereafter Humiliation day Footsteps of their fathers No fee would let them take Opportunistic pressures Severing sacred bonds Resilience had nurtured Again the West had wronged And through the night on tracks of steel Containers rolling west Travel over graves of men The granite laid to rest Who cracked the mountain ramparts Payed to pave the colony To race the roaring Fraser to the sea Oh for just one time To complete the Northwest Passage With glowing hearts they brought you to these golden plated hills In your bag supplied Dynamite and one last message To send to all your family over the sea
American dreamers Eating TV dinners Those days rags to riches Could be at your fingers Mama wears her apron Pops comes home for dinner One day we will be there American dreamers Technicolour promise prosperity Land of colour austerity Week day evenings Sit by the TV Us mouthing all the words Repeating what we heard Put us inside the projection Technicolour education Exotic scene Glued to the screen English lesson Childhood vision Imported noise Domestic poise Technicolour education Technicolour education
Ghosts 04:13
Ghosts inside of other ghosts The soul of the town packed up and gone Taking with it the memories Now stored in basement photo albums Out of place, buried unmarked graves Washed away as the river rises Imagine bustle in the streets That once were paved with riches of mountains You may leave us, we’ve been through worse We will be fine, we will be fine You know, we see ghosts, she told us The day after he had died She phoned to let us know He’d come to her at night To say goodbye It’d come to be his time After he had died She comes to watch him as he sleeps Waiting for us, while we wade through our dreams We politely ask them please to leave We gently, gently You may leave us, we’ve been through worse We will be fine, we will be fine
You are mine, I belong to you Now is the time, get to know you Through your letters, through your letters Blue pen, blue paper, Blue sky airmail You are mine, I belong to you Put a coin, in the mouth Of the matchmaker They say that we must Gold gold promise Gold gifts gold mountains You are mine, I belong to you Now I go outside, be part of the view You are mine, I belong to you Won't be told to hide, now that I have you You are mine now and I belong to you Once you leave me will I think of you Green freedom, green ocean, green local jade He is mine only in my memory Too poor too shy but would always wait for me Red lips, red regret, red the colour of my children's blood
Will you let me bore you with details squeezed out of memories Rain on the wooden stairs, crusty pear tree Haunted basement microwaves Big meals around big tables Arms passing aunts reminding Chopsticks shoveling Home for lunch, walk to the park, robbery, piano lesson Things shrink as we get old Haircuts on the balcony Weekend trips to the old house We learn about you in the process of bedroom archaeology And all the things you said, all the things you did, all the things you thought All the things you read, all the things you hid, all the things you brought All the things you took, all the things you cooked, all the things you loved Learning about you Bedroom Archaeology Letters about money Letters about what the kids were doing Letters I couldn’t even read They were written in Chinese Sixty year old letters Illegible to me And to realize all this Things I might have never known And how much of myself will be lost to my children’s grandchildren Will they even know my name And all the things I said, all the things I did, all the things I thought All the things I read, all the things I hid, all the things I brought All the things I took, all the things I cooked, all the things I loved And the kids say we don’t know what we don’t know We don’t know who we don’t know
You were a sacrifice to us The most familiar stranger Had no practice saying the word daddy It stuck in my throat when I tried Thirteen years you were like a treat A holiday that came to me Airplanes take daddies away All those airplanes filled All those sad little girls Writing letters Letters from a child
Vessel 04:37
Me to you to we to you to us Look inward We're complicit Determine us Determination Togetherness Or separation A token of future a token of the past The myth of the gap, the parallax We want to belong Taught to follow along Recovering our Subjectivity To us to you to here to now this past future is yours is ours Look outward Revisit Emptyness nothingness Be a vessel for this
Lyrics by Anahita Jamali Rad A landscape sitting out of place Makes the past yet again Appears as water Sifts through space Fills and empties And I feel Here or there Read or written Outside or inside Self or other Full or empty Myth or memory Real or nothing Despite or because The way language Shapes our movements Inscribes onto us this dislocation They say it's history Or a temporality Textures of feeling leave you or I Here and there Read and written Outside and inside Self and other Full and empty Myth and memory Real and belonging Everything and nothing


released January 12, 2019


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Only A Visitor Vancouver, British Columbia

Only A Visitor is art pop from Vancouver, BC, Coast Salish Territory. Visit us at onlyavisitor.com

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