The other night while at an art talk that I found particularly insufferable all I could hear in my head was a wild pounding drumbeat that I’d heard earlier that day while listening to the small man’s composition. I was sat on the floor at the talk, since the space was full and small. It was so aurally and physically uncomfortable, but my feet started doing their own thing.

At one point I realized the talk had become white noise and this pounding drumbeat had taken me over. It was very odd. Claustrophobic yet convenient. I noticed it even began to infringe on the rhythm of my knitting needles.