I found myself at the piano after many months in an attempt to draw myself out of what became the worst depressive episode I have experienced. The white wooden cathedral called on me and my subconscious responded. I began to play improvised pieces (which inevitably sound like Harold Budd works if he lacked his skill) and eventually appreciated that the washing machine had been on the entire time and that bird calls were sounding intermittently outside. It was one of the many moments of reality conjuring the finest poetry, since this juxtaposition and gradual conversation between the gentle, patient piano playing (“patient” due to my status as an extreme novice behind the piano) perfectly spoke to my present mood of attempting to find happiness in the depths of despair (a self-created one). My life is a thankfully blessed one of vile ease, but I am still trapped in my own body and cannot avoid the anxiety it often foists upon me (nor the worrying medical symptoms it generated over the past two weeks). I then decided to record these improvised pieces based on my initial mappings of a few chords and the emergent themes of tranquility and interruption with the dryer on in the background birds scatting. The recording is Lo-fi, mistakes were treated as creative invitations rather than edited out, and minimal mixing/mastering was done (only to better draw out some of the quieter notes); I had to record and release this as quickly as possible lest my raw feelings were lost in revision.