A song, until it is heard, is only a possibility.
It lives in a file, in a room, in a pair of headphones on a desk.
It waits.
Then you press play > You bring your own weather to it: the day you had, the person you miss, the hope you are carrying.
And suddenly the song is bigger than we ever made it.
That is the magic I keep returning to.
So consider this an invitation.
Come inside. Make it yours.
The room only feels complete once you are here.
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