"Enter the poem, not to know what it is about, but to think about what happens in it. Since the poem is an operation, it is also an event."

"The lyrics, which hold the murmur of the indistinguishable, are directed without vision."

These phrases by Alain Badiou in Small Manual of Unaesthetics were the starting point of this creation. Technically speaking: the final result of this work responds to a series of transformations that the poem went through. First it was text, writing. Then I used Eleven Studios, an audio software powered by artificial intelligence, to give it a first sound layer. From that material, the voice was processed, altered and endowed with personality through the Ableton software. With that new state of the poem, I passed the voice that now recited the poem by AudioStellar - an essential tool for this process - where I fragmented the entire audio into small units or samples. These fragments were arranged in a kind of map-constellation: each point contains a word that, when touched by a particle in continuous movement, reproduces its sound. Conceptually, when I received the poem I discovered in it a very present sound component, an atmosphere marked by a painful and tragic event. The title of the song that the poem mentioned evoked precisely that sound transformation of a painful event.

With this in mind, and guided by Badiou's words, I wanted to distill the poem into a pure sonority. Divide it until you get to the word itself and use those words to build a

New soundscape: a poem born from another poem. Let the words meet and succeed each other preserving the essence and mystery of poetry. The work is a game between human and machine whose axis is the word. Thanks to technology, both are in a territory where randomness makes possible the appearance of the indistinguishable: a murmur that recalls the original poem, a dynamic that invites not to understand it, but to observe how poetry operates, how words collide, how they unfold in an infinite and unpredictable construction.