Music is the breath of silence becoming sound, a whisper emerging from shadow into the present moment.
My tracks are echoes captured directly from the thread where vibrating strings meet effects in real time — virtually unedited, yet fully alive.
Flaws and textures are the fingerprints of my consciousness — raw and unmasked.
In this very moment, the outer world and inner realms spontaneously converge and speak.
Here dwells the ambient lore — a shimmering presence at the edge of my awareness.
Piotr Lorek
Listen on platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, Soundcloud.
Latest album
2026 – Inner Firmament
When a person looks up, they see their own image of the firmament—an image created within the mind. That is why the album bears the title INNER FIRMAMENT. The individual recordings of fleeting moments form a sequence portraying a person’s inner transformation.
There are moments in life that make one suddenly fall like a star. The mask drops, and it becomes clear that one’s understanding of oneself was false. One has cared so much for one’s image that it has become the only self.
At times there comes a sudden realization that the way we see ourselves is imagined. Then the unconscious shadow begins to take shape, and the night of unknowing meets the daylight of awareness. When repressed darkness enters self-knowledge, the foundations of identity begin to tremble.
Then comes the desire to dust off the true self. That desire arises from the conviction that beneath the lifting dust an authentic identity will finally appear. Yet what has been formed throughout life is not hidden beneath the dust—it is the dust itself. Removing that layer does not reveal a fully formed self; it gives birth instead to the despair of having no self at all.
Then thunder crashes down from a darkened sky. From time to time, in the flash of lightning, scattered fragments of one’s own self become visible. The strike of lightning hurts, burning away everything that was never true.
The sudden awareness of lacking a sense of self becomes a form of self-understanding. It leads to an even deeper inner fracture born of the pain of nonexistence. A terrifying sorrow tears apart what was never whole. The ground from which one arose begins to crack.
Within the heavenly storm, nothing remains that can be grasped as one’s own. One begins to suspect that everything one believed oneself to be was merely a patchwork assembled from the absence of self. Years pass, and from time to time the obscurity of existence briefly parts. Between clouds and mist appears a glimpse of the horizon of the self. Nothing is yet distinct. The whirl of confusion grows quiet, and the horizon of the self begins to emerge through its protective veil.
Or so it seems. For shedding the false self does not assemble the true one. Instead, one begins searching for something upon which to stand once again. New garments are put on, because the nakedness of the self is unbearable. One had come close, yet it slipped away into the distant blue, returning to the firmament from which it may once again fall. Paradoxically, that fall would be another opportunity. Yet many will remain forever within their own imagining, preserving the illusion of the heavens.
The movement from an unformed self to an imagined one, and later from a fractured self-image toward scattered fragments of identity, never truly ends. Sometimes a constellation of events gives rise to a nebula from which a new star may be born. One who cannot endure the absence of self will eagerly recognize themselves in the next opportunity to become someone else. Another, however, will dare to narrow their gaze, so that the nebula does not pour into the pupil with all its force. In doing so, they give themselves the chance not to be deceived once again into becoming a star.
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