Etched Traumas

We feel like explorers; we travel light distances via unheard sounds sprung out of our lungs. Armed with a DAW and a poor sound recorder for a new situation. There are rules to override and there are wires to stretch. Capture the sound of stretching a copper string. An accidental glass break and suddenly we are between mellowness and harshness; between sadness and happiness. We are here to make a joyful noise. Because all impulses escape prototyping. ‘Our model is sound’ so let’s go down and burn the road. Leave your etched traumas behind.