marcus moonen
music | photography | Words | film
Music
I make electronic music using (modular) synthesizers, drumcomputers and effects. Genres are unimportant. Feeling something is. Soundtracks for future fairytales.
Photography
I try to capture the numinous, the wholly other through my lens. Science fiction photography. I also enjoy photographing humans, trying to capture some of who they are through my lens.
words
I write filmscripts, usually for films I direct myself. Sometimes I write my thoughts down, meandering, stream of consciousness. Other times I write poetry and attempts at prose.
film
I enjoy filming a lot. Music videos, short films. I dream of one day directing a feature film. I try, as with my photography, to find the numinous, experience alienation. Make it look beautiful if I can.
Blog
Read the latest blog entries.
Photography
A selection from my photoseries. High quality prints are available.
A visual representation of a memory of either future or past. Frozen, but as time moves on in either direction, more and more obscured by a cloud of possible variations of the memory.
Imminent [2021]
Still fascinated by the numinous, the wholly other, these images capture the moment right before an encounter, a phenomenon that will alter your being forever.
The world looked grim, the things I saw loomed dark and ominous against a severe sky. As I traversed an apocalyptic landscape projected from my mind onto the outside world, I felt the pull of oblivion.
Off on an imaginary holiday, I took my camera with me to visit Proxima Centauri C, to capture the migration of the photonic beings, see the waves undulate on an unknown sea and have my picnic ruined by some exoplanetary weather.
Filmscripts, poems and thoughts
INT. BEDROOM – DAY MEDIUM:
BOY is asleep in the bed, his car keys and Ray-Bans are on the dresser / desk / bar.
A female hand grabs the keys and sunglasses.
We just see GIRL slipping out the door, then the door closes.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. CAR – HIGHWAY – DAWN
Loveliness
Lies still on the bottom
Of the lake,
Lost
Let it rest in peace
Leave it be
It will wither
As we make our eyes
Anew
And forge a new, true
Creature of Beauty
Such,
That God will blink
…what is frightening, though, is that the intensity, the intent with which I used to live seems to be swallowed up by the black hole at the end of my life.
It is as if the energy, the will, the adventure and the soul -for lack of a better word to convey the essence of my emotions- is being sucked out of me, forwards toward this endpoint, which from here, seems to lack the comfort of an event horizon.
There is no perennial twilight.
About Marcus
A musician, producing emotion-laden electronic music
A photographer trying to capture the numinous
A filmmaker telling stories of alienation and melancholy
A writer trying to find words