Late into the night, or before the sunrise, hidden away in the old electronic studio at school,
I could spend hours, days, juggling sine waves to achieve a second of startled music like
nothing the world had ever heard - a molten sun-disk, or the exhalation of a rose, or the
squeek of a see-saw baby angels ride.
Surprised as I was at these beauties, I wasn't sure what to do with them, though, in the face
of so much color, the arrangement seemed unimportant.
Yet none of this, however lovely or unique - none of this is exactly what I was searching for.