Music first and foremost, with odd numbers that drift and dissolve better in the air, with nothing heavy or static about them.
Shaded tints we desire, no colour only tints and hues.
Nothing lovelier than a grey song, where uncertainty and precision meet.
Beautiful eyes veiled and dim, the quivering bright light of noon, and the blue tangle of clear stars in a mild autumn sky.
Only the shaded tint can link dream to dream and flute to horn.
(adaptation of a poem by Verlaine)