I am sitting alone in the back seat of a car which is rolling in reverse down a slope, and there is no driver at the wheel.
I spent much of my childhood (and early adulthood) restlessly wandering. At times I am malleable and cloud-like, at others I am right angles.
I once found myself in Copenhagen.
I write letters to friends.
Projection (negative space) (2011)
for accordion and cello quartet
I remember seeing a blackbird trapped inside the cage-like stairwell of an apartment block and being transfixed by the beautiful sadness of the image. I was somehow reminded of a painting by Hasegawa Touhaku depicting a pine grove shrouded heavily in mist.
‘In that vast Brahma-wheel, in which all things live and rest, the bird flutters about, so long as he thinks that the self (in him) is different from the mover. When he has been blessed by him,
then he gains immortality.’
– Svetasvatara upanishad, 1.6 translated by Max Mueller, 1879