With a broken-down oven, in a hotel kitchen, on an uninhabited island
Subscribe and Save up to 45%
Moving through images
I find no beginnings and
from my recorder comes a sound
before it and after it come sounds
where does my sound end and other sound begin?
the bamboo brush moves across still, white paper.
there is nothing between what you are
and what you do,
yet it is not what a person does that is important,
it is what he is.
Can you see that there is more to music than what you hear?
Can you see that there is more to art than what you see?
The patterns change, yet the image remains.
And so it goes.