Rooms swept by the late afternoon sun are caressed by dreams of light like notes from a piano harmonizing with the sea. Wind chimes softly carry the...
Somehow, through the reverberations of the music we create, we become the essence of starlight that falls through words that have no sound. We become...
In iceland , in the winter, the wind would echo like improvisational jazz, echoing through the vent above my kitchen stove. Sound would undulate and...