A puddle held a slice of moving sky. I stepped close and the clouds unstitched around my boot, then knitted again. For a moment it felt like permission: to disturb something, and for it to go on being itself.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
A puddle held a slice of moving sky. I stepped close and the clouds unstitched around my boot, then knitted again. For a moment it felt like permission: to disturb something, and for it to go on being itself.