la genèse des arbres
The music is a city of sound. Smooth-walled and shimmering monoliths rise around the patchwork grid of the populace. They form a human mist that swirls around the base of the glass edifices. A uniform whole comes into focus as we twist the lens of interpretation and arrive at the correct distance for a holistic view. Somehow the ever-present societal instinct toward dissection into fragments easily carried by our short-term memory is quelled, and the now of the sound spreads out before and behind me in time. I just want to exist in eternity for a minute.