The inspiration that hides in the smallest pockets of spaces.

I believe in light and space
and the serenity open space can have on your soul-

The shards of sunlight that pierce through the eves when you're sitting in a dark musty hall, surrounded by the haunt of ear-splitting quiet.

Those are the lightest moments, when your spirit lifts above your body and inspiration bubbles behind your closed lips.

In those moments, you can transport your mind into past centuries- in a cloistered, color-stained chapel, Bach mumbles to himself "No, that wasn't right" scratching and scribbling out imperfect parallel fifths to replace the dark halls with something grander and more eerily eloquent than you'd ever dare to hear.