a young boy called max is sitting in his room and practicing playing his violin.
the mother stands in the kitchen and hears her son playing the same note
repeatedly over and over for over a long period. she decides to walk in to
him, and she says. max, why are you only playing that one note. you know
others have made big serenades and impressive extensive works with scales
and wonderful compinations, you should try to combine more notes.
young max says: they are looking for a place… i found it.
i can’t quite say that i repeated the story right, but it was so beautiful to
me. so i had to try to share it here.