The Time of a Song is a mute confession between a child and a melting snowman, a melancholy dream. A vision in an inner place of constructed memory, between fever dreams and flashbacks.
We cannot deny a willingness, or predisposition, to invest energies, of any kind, by virtue of uncertain results. Compressing thoughts like snow to give shape and different weights to something unclear, playing with a silent audience, sharing intimacy with an inanimate object, creating with an absence.