“When listening to the sound material, we metamorphose the inside into an outside.”

This notion of metamorphosis is one of the principles that leads the course of the musical suite, reflecting changes (fluidsolid passages: water/ice/fire) or movements (ebb/flow/wave, inspiration/expiration) or inside-outside passages (door/individual/crowd).

I do consider sounds as living things.

Thus, the perceived object is not entirely what we would have liked it to be. Our music brings us closer to some while it takes us away from others: each with their own inside.

France is the only place where you can make love in the afternoon without people hammering on your door.

Medicine cabinets are dangerous. Those doors, man. They’ll just spring on you like a ninja.

Shut the door, Wales.

Hospitality, or flinging wide the door to friends and wayfarers alike, was once important, back in a world without motels or safety nets, where a friend might find his castle burnt down or a wayfarer find bandits on his trail.

There was no warning, not even a knock. The door flew open, and he forgot his present aches and pains in anticipation of what lay in store. The figure that stood in the door was not that of an enemy. It was worse. It was his mother.

It’s an exciting life. I don’t know where God is leading us. I just know that He opens doors and He closes the doors, and it is always the best for us.

I’m the comedic girl next door and a lot of fun.

To Truth’s house there is a single door, which is experience.