Recently spent four days in Alghero, Sardinia. It may have been a short trip, but it was, without question, a journey—both in the outer and inner sense. I brought with me Internal Alchemy: An Anthology of Neidan Texts by Fabrizio Pregadio, which served as my nightly companion. Immersed in its pages, I discovered more about the relationship between internal and external alchemy, realizing just how different those paths can be. But above all, this journey was a continuation of something deeply rooted in me.

It’s the first time in a very long while that I’ve truly disconnected—emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I felt something I find difficult to describe. I believe this moment of inner stillness is directly linked to the genesis of my current musical creations, and to the spiritual transformation I’ve been working on over the past five years. There was so much to unlearn, to reshape, to let go of, to question.

Alghero in May was beautiful—walking along the city walls, catching open-air concerts, enjoying healthy meals and sipping a cold 4.2% birra, watching people go by. Two unexpected moments stood out: a small sandstorm during which I stayed on the beach while most people left, gazing at the horizon in complete serenity; and a bus trip to Porto Ferro, which felt far too short for how breathtaking the scenery was.

That bus ride through the island’s northwest corner gave me a rare sense of freedom. In Porto Ferro, I was able to speak with locals in Italian—which is now one of my main goals: to speak fluently and naturally, just as I did in Spanish or English when I traveled in the past. One of the new songs I’m currently writing is actually in Italian.

That return trip from Porto Ferro turned into quite the adventure. I had to walk nearly 10 kilometers. At one point, I heard someone—an older man, probably in his 70s—playing the saxophone from inside his home. I think he was Sardinian. He didn’t see me, but I stood there listening, in a kind of meditative trance, half-waiting for a bus and half-accepting that I might end up sleeping on the beach. And still, I wasn’t anxious—just quietly certain that a solution would come. That’s something Neidan has taught me: when you operate from a deeper level, there is always a path. Solutions and obstacles arise from the same flow—it’s just perspective.

Back at my lodging—a charming guesthouse run by a kind host—I continued writing texts but didn’t work much on melodies this time. Unlike Slovenia, where I focused on vocal lines, here I gave my attention to words. Time passed strangely: fast, yet expansive. I felt like I’d been there a full week.

The sea was cold, but diving in was rejuvenating. Swimming always helps me reset. Porto Ferro, in particular, felt like an alchemical mirror. The way the beach meets the forest and hills, the crystalline colors—it contained all the elemental symbols of the divine book. I took notes for future modular patches, especially refining how the guitar integrates into the system. At this point, the rack is 90% complete. I’ve also started reconnecting with other artists for potential collaborations—some of which might even come before a formal album.

Speaking of albums, the very idea of one almost kills the joy of this project for me. It feels premature. I’m more focused on writing songs, refining sound design, and mastering the musical language behind it. I’m using BlueSky as my main network—it’s the only social platform I genuinely enjoy, thanks to its creative community. YouTube is my second space, where I’ve started sharing travel shorts. The rack is solid now, and I recently added a Strymon Dual dig pedal for vocals—dry vocals, no reverb—and a Strymon BlueSky at the end of the modular chain for lush spring reverb textures.

I’d say I’ve finalized about 70% of the text work for the upcoming tracks. These are floating songs—not fixed, not final. I plan to publish regular demos, maybe 5–6 versions of each song. You can find them on my SoundCloud page (linked in the “News” section of my site).

These four days in Alghero helped unlock a lot in my mind. If you’re curious about where I stayed, feel free to reach out via the contact section on my site—I’d be happy to share the details. You’ll also find photos of Alghero and Porto Ferro on my BlueSky account, linked in the top-right corner of the homepage.

I’ve also continued collecting texts on Neidan and may share some rare translations soon—texts that are no longer available online or in print. If you’d like translations in French, Italian, or Spanish, just send me a message.

On the music tech side: I’m now using a 4-input audio interface, which makes it easier to record stereo vocals on one line and the modular/guitar setup on another. I’m also working on integrating field recordings collected over the past 4–5 years from Normandy, Malta, Croatia, Minorca, Ibiza, and elsewhere. I’m debating whether to run samples directly from VLC on my iPhone into the [Instruō] Tahn module, or through the [Instruō] Tanh module for signal shaping before routing them into the Befaco A*B+C mixer. Birdsong, bells, aquatic textures—these will be part of it.

The Prism module from Qu-bit remains a favorite, especially in delay comb mode. I reinstalled the FX Aid module recently, but its potential is so vast I might reserve it for a future, more specific project. For now, BlueSky + Prism is more than enough.

There are currently ten songs in the works—one in French, one in Italian, and the others in English. Depending on concerts and context, I may release alternate versions in Spanish or other languages. Italian is becoming more and more central to my work.

The Circle of Fifths is a structural base for composition in this new phase. I alternate two notes on my dual VCO and use the guitar to bridge them, creating subtle rhythmic textures—there’s a definite Krautrock influence here. It’s a genre that’s always resonated with me. But main inspirations remain Hiroshi Yoshimura, Stars of the Lid, and Popol Vuh—not in imitation, just in resonance. I mostly listen to cassettes, including many from independent artists on BlueSky. I buy them on Bandcamp and enjoy that format the most. I also own a few rare vinyls I haven’t even opened—they feel like artifacts.

So this trip to Alghero was another step forward—a new layer. I can imagine live sessions where songs exist freely, not locked to a single recorded version. I might release 10 different demos of one piece, and if needed, produce a tape later. Maybe. But no rush. The process is sacred.

That’s the current state of things—open, evolving, and filled with potential.