The word Olma came to electronic musician Denis Piryazev in a dream. At the time, the artist was immersed in Bardo Thodol: The Tibetan Book of the Dead, and its atmosphere quietly shaped the vision of the record. From that space emerged the image of a dark, mystical forest — neither benevolent nor hostile — existing simply as a place for the listener to enter.

The journey begins with the childlike melancholy of “Toy,” drawing you into a swamp-like emotional terrain that gradually deepens through moments of tension and release. As the path unfolds, the forest shifts in form and perception, leading toward “Bardo,” a track that feels suspended — quiet, solemn, and reflective. Here, the music becomes less about direction and more about presence, inviting stillness and attention.

Olma moves like a dream — a landscape that captivates, unsettles, and quietly teaches. Through “Bardo,” everything dissolves into rebirth — a cycle that begins again as if nothing had ever started, as though the forest itself never existed. The atmosphere lingers in shadow — surreal, ambiguous, unresolved.

This is only one interpretation of the album’s world. The listener is invited to find their own path through its shadows — guided by dark tones, a mystical palette, and a spirit of self-discovery shaped by the idea of Bardo and the strange presence of Olma.