The Artist 
Mono (stylized as MONO) are a Japanese instrumental rock band, formed in 1999 in Tokyo. The band consists of Takaakira Goto (electric guitar, glockenspiel), Hideki Suematsu (electric guitar, glockenspiel), Tamaki Kunishi (bass guitar, electric guitar, piano, glockenspiel), and Yasunori Takada (drum kit, glockenspiel, synthesizer). Hymn to the Immortal Wind; Part of the story behind the music and studio album released in March 2009.
Ashes In The Snow
Time, cold and unbending, leaves her standing alone once again.Long ago, there was the sound of two children running here. Their footsteps, never straying farapart from each other’s, still echo through the woods where an old woman walks on his day.
On a still river surrounded by weeping willows, the woman rows her boat towards the open sea.With a grave face she pulls the oars to and fro, her eyes fixed upon a nearby cliff above the waters. She traces the edge and holds her breath, reliving the chilling distance down to the bottom. Her rhythm is steady and slow as she breaks through the familiar fog. The sound of waves crashing, the lingering smell of burnt wood, and the reflection of branches on the water all remain the same as her memory, as if frozen in a spell. She inhales all she can hold and wonders if winter never ended since that cold night she stood on the cliff with him. Here lies their landscape of memories untouched by the awakening spring.
On this day the woman prepares for farewell. Heavy are his ashes, sinking in her hand. As she strains to let his remains go, she turns herself to the earth for an answer, a reminder of why she is here. Beneath her grief she knows there is something beyond the finality of this moment. Like the spring that is born from a cruel winter, there is something here waiting to be born. Resting her hand on the boat, she lets her eyes sleep.
Peering from the thickets of the surrounding woods, a promise tree faithfully waits to welcome this day of their journey. With roots woven deeply into the earth, it is the only thing that’s flourished here where all else has stood still. In the midst of it all, it continues to grow, nurturing the vow that it was planted with as if it were its child. The tree watches the woman tenderly and sways its branches, sending a stream of wind to relieve her.
In the place between wake and sleep, there lies a bridge over the waters. The woman finds herself on one end, walking towards the figure standing in the middle. With her arms open, she feels lifted as if she was a child again. Hours pass before she awakes in the boat by the embrace of dim sunlight. Finding the ashes still waiting in her palm, she blesses them with her love and releases them into a stream of wind that carries them over the waters. The woman travels back into a time where they prayed here together, a dreadful time where they found solace in each other’s promise.
Her eyes follow the flight of the ashes until they fade into falling snow before her-the same snow of the winter that they loved and perished here together.
[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbnhjsDI_ho”]
Silent Flight, Sleeping Dawn
Above and beneath them was the sound of beating wings. Their arms flailed freely as they glided close together. Remembering the stories that traveled to their village, they knew this must be the place where children fly, the place where all things end and begin again. With their hands inseparable, they soared higher until all they could see below them was a blue velvet blanket with patches of sinking green. For the first time, they felt bigger than the sea, bigger than the earth. Lifted and safely tucked under the gentle wing of the wind, they dove through the clouds with their eyes closed and mouths open in joy. What a beautiful sight that lay before them, like a dream unfolding in slow motion.
“Carry us until we awake”, they prayed.
[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUAYBteh5zk”]
Pure As Snow (Trails of the Winter Storm)
Under the cold weight of snow, the earth will finally hibernate. It is the miracle of winter. Flakes fall as if 
they were sent to pause time before the seasons begin again. Some are clumsy, some are graceful, but each knows its landing place on the earth. The only movement here is that of a young woman searching through the braided pine branches for an opening. Her white dress is camouflaged against the snow. Lost in this dream chamber, she moves through the white powder, running her hands through it to awaken her memory.
Parting the branches, she follows an open path cleared before her, swerving its way to a stone bridge adorned with icicles. Someone is waiting for her there, a gray figure, a stranger, watching her through the shower of white between them. They are uncertain of why they have come but they both long to be here. Although she cannot recognize his face, she knows him somehow. As they stand together, a single ray of light grows from behind, wrapping them in its warmth until they dissipate into it. When she awakes, a cloud of winter air still floats above her. It was just a dream again.
On this morning, a man awakes from the same dream, one that reoccurred so often that he felt incomplete without it at times. It haunted him. When his eyes closed, her face still appeared before him, but not one that he could recognize. His oldest memory was of being an infant sitting before his family, unable to speak or walk on his own. He cried for days and nights, his small fists clenched, until one day he couldn’t remember why he was so sad anymore. Along with the other children, he learned to laugh and run again. This became his new life, and everything before then seemed no longer his.
The man watches swelling clouds from his window and cannot help but anticipate the arrival of something today. Bodies bustle their way past him as he sits outdoors, but they are like shadows murmuring to one another. They float by unnoticed as his eyes only fall upon a young woman, dressed in white, who stands behind the crowd. He feels comforted, almost relieved by the sight of her, and longs to be near her. Their eyes lock, a strange longing glance that could not be severed by anything at that moment. Her eyes are like two deep wells of stories, perhaps one he may have heard before. They appear dewy, prepared to overflow.
In the distance, church bells ring. The humming noise and motion of the world seep back in to disturb their peace. If she is a mirage, she will disappear soon, he thinks. But she remains there, motionless. This time is not a dream. With a final glance at him, the woman slowly vanishes into the sea of bodies. A steady downpour of snow ripples in the wind until he cannot see anything but the movement of white. Chaotic, like a surge of emotion, and yet pure, white, and delicate, the snowstorm remains an enigma to him. As he tastes the snowfall, he sees a single ray of light piercing through a cloud, and he cannot help but smile.
[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HoptVHZy5s”]
Everlasting Light
She has traveled far to be here again. Inside the boat, the old woman revives each season of their time together. Listening to the distant sound of beating wings, she gently releases the remaining ashes into the river, but they do not sink. Instead, they are swept into the wind and take flight towards the horizon that lies ahead. She watches them travel on, marveling at the tenacity of their endless journey.
When she turns, sitting before her is an old man watching her faithfully. Blessed to have reached this day together, they laugh as spring finally awakens around them. They row passed the weeping willows and a familiar tree still surrounded by white stones. A bridge glows in the light of the setting sun as he takes her hand and guides her onto the ground. Hand in hand, they walk across their bridges into a tunnel of pure light without an end in sight.
[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4h6Qvz65Io”]
