Everyone Has To Scratch On Walls Somewhere

In The Desert The Most Loved Waters, Like A Lover's Name, Are Carried Blue In Your Hands, Enter Your Throat. One Swallows Absence.

I Love The Performance Of A Craft, Whether It Is Modest Or Mean-spirited, Yet I Walk Away When Discussions Of It Begin - As If One Should Ask A Gravedigger What Brand Of Shovel He Uses Or Whether He Prefers To Work At Noon Or In Moonlight. I Am Interested Only In The Care Taken, And Those Secret Rehearsals Behind It. Even If I Do Not Understand Fully What Is Taking Place.

The Music Of Gavin Bryars Falls Under No Category. It Is Mongrel, Full Of Sensuality And Wit And Is Deeply Moving. He Is One Of The Few Composers Who Can Put Slapstick And Primal Emotion Alongside Each Other. He Allows You To Witness New Wonders In The Sounds Around You By Approaching Them From A Completely New Angle. With A Third Ear Maybe.

Here. Where I Am Anonymous And Alone In A White Room With No History And No Parading. So I Can Make Something Unknown In The Shape Of This Room. Where I Am King Of Corners.

Some Events Take A Lifetime To Reveal Their Damage And Influence.