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  • Foot down, click. Wait.

    Click. Bow turns clockwise, halfway around, the side of the hairs touch the metal of the string just enough to wisp in the air. The lacquer on the wood is coming off in strips which pull against the string in parallel. To the left and right, invisible insects, no, a faint swarm of small winged robots glitter in the air. They appear out of nowhere and are gone again.

    Click. The insects are still there. A bass bin echoes across the room from somewhere to the right. Bow shifts back to the hairs and pull upwards against the grain of the string - against the grain of the hairs. The bow stutters, and spits softly on the string.

    Click. One, insects. Two, insects, twitch. Three…

    Click. In unison the bow shifts directions, the rosin takes hold and releases in a repeating pattern, and a tonal thought appears in the air. Transparent plastic sheets of pitch spread out above us and are pushed off, pulled like sails around the room.

    This should be about 10 seconds or so.
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