The colour of the magpie, her father was saying, was symbolic of creation. The void, the mystery of that which had not yet taken form. Black and white, he said. Presence and absence.

Who's to say? Life is not, as we are taught, a matter of seeking answers, but rather learning which are the questions we should ask.

I really like people and I keep friendships. I have people from all parts of my life.

Creation has become so broad, there’s no emptiness. Everything swarms and seethes. The void has destroyed itself; creation is its wound, we are its drops of blood, the world is the grave in which it rots.

There is no pattern the human mind can devise that does not exist already within the bounds of nature...Everything we do, see, write, notate, all are an echo of the deep seams of the universe. Music is the invisible world made visible through sound.

For when all else is done, on­ly words re­main. Words en­dure.