![]() Insightful and shocking, it once again started the creative spark. But, somehow it was a different beginning. And there we were, almost starting all over again. Nature's power swiftly pulled the rug under our feet and the roofs over our heads. No lesson was intended, but there was an important one learned. Buildings moved, thoughts rearranged, the ground separated, relationships tightened, love connected and tectonic plates diverged. As if the pandemic wasn't enough, a devastating earthquake hit our town and the surrounding area. We thought we'd caught up with the world, able to live the new kind of life, making it possible to make sense out of it all when the ground cracked for real. Or, at least, one could see these times as an opportunity to make new kinds of relationships, develop new ideas, new approaches, ask new questions, completely free and unlimited by restricting obsolete motifs and reasons. Hierarchy, selfishness, rules, borders, unnecessary and unfounded convention, businesses, greed, the world of I, me, myself, me, mine seemed to be making room for new, immaculate things to shape up. Someone more optimistic might have felt that the old, outdated shape of the world had started its metamorphosis, in the hope of all human materialistic instincts to be outgrown. In a world in which things have been globally breaking, changing and cracking, during the dark swansong times of the lowest human urges, during the chaos caused by crazy people in office, globally and locally. We were composing, rehearsing, recording at the turning point of a whole era, as it turns out. Anticipating the change, we'd felt it creeping in on us on many levels of our personal and artistic lives. Pre-masked and pre-all we know about it now. We set off with this album in a completely different world. Time does not exist, and the only virtual reality ruling our lives is the one weaved out of our interacting instruments' waves, seamlessly infused with the electrical web of sounds. The magic of playing music becomes all there is. Simultaneously you disappear completely and yet your existence is more real than ever before. Comfortably at ease, completely consumed with the here and now. Because, while playing music, you feel like children at play. Because you're thrilled to be going to rehearsals. So the whole thing starts again for all the right reasons. It's great if you can do that with friends, and it's even better when you realise everyone feels the same. You catch them gently, since they are fragile and apprehensive, hold them in your hands and let yourself go trusting them to lead the way to wherever you're supposed to arrive. Restlessness embraces you, and if your mind is swarming with melodies, rhythms and frequencies that have hatched out of that old broken eggshell after being trapped inside, and are now milling around the rehearsal room like a glittering swarm of fireflies, there's little you can do but start. But strangely, your muscles, insides, eyes, ears, head and every other part of you tell you that you should. ![]() When these things happen, it's hard to start over. ![]() Sometimes, some worlds really need to be smashed to smithereens to give way to new ones. ![]() There's a beautiful sentence from one novel I read a long time ago, about how sometimes the old world has to crack to pieces, like an eggshell, for a new life to be born out of it. ![]()
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