There are few sounds more comforting to me than the crunch of frozen ground beneath my boots. It's something going back years to being part of a large family in a small house. There were windows of peace and quiet in the solitude, outside walking the dog, or coming back late from a friend's house. It is part of that space in between things with defined boundaries. There is quiet in the white space and it can be found in art, and the space between notes in music. It is white and frozen and all of a sudden you're left with emptiness that you don't have to find a name for, or a feeling for. You are left with yourself, and perhaps it's strange to find yourself in a moment where there is nothing but the sound and it starts then not from your ears but from the resonance coming up through the soles of your feet. You hear it with your entire body and it is only you, and undefined boundaries.