Wood, leather, breath. Six holes, hard to cover. One thousand five hundred ninety.
Silence is never just absence. It lingers between notes, in glances, in breath held. Through the serpent, I seek one that holds. One that stays
Produced at La Patrie, Ghent ©2025 Relative Pitch Records LLC [on back cover] © 2025 Relative Pitch Records LLC [on disc]