I will not forget the abbatoirs.
a dream-journal-turned-bitsy.
content warnings: industrialised animal exploitation and suffering, disassociation.
scrapped together when I had thirty mins to spare and shared in Bitsy Jam no. 86. I'll probably 'finish' it when I have time, or not. normalise sharing scrappy fiddles or somethin.
better late than never.
Comments
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As someone who grew up around this sort of thing (agriculture, stock yards, slaughterhouses), this really does capture some of the thoughts I've harbored for years fairly well.
thank you for this comment. I'm lucky that I've never visited a slaughterhouse in use, only heard stories and researched on the internet and filled in the rest with my imagination, so it's strange to me (not quite gladdening, but I feel a certain kinship) that it resonated with someone who has actually experienced that. I really hope this didn't agitate trauma of those experiences too much. big love.
Not at all. In my youth, I was never good at raising cattle, never enjoying it and mostly pitying the treatment they received. But the whole industry incentivizes cruelty and efficiency, so it was never something I would've been part of longterm.
This is still quite haunting despite the minimal material. A sense of threat in the silence, the constant descent, the bleak empty rooms.
Yeah, worth sharing.
thank u <3 the dream was wordless and I imagined the bitsy being wordless, too, so its strange to hear that the inverse of that was effective.
The minimalism makes this all the more harrowing. I’m glad you shared this scrappy fiddle!
ahh thank u lovely ! honestly it's hard for me to come back to this, was in a bit of a panicky state when I started it, so that's very nice of u to say.