A single note is just a seed, a tiny static point in time, but if you let it vibrate and warp, it can explode into an infinite spiral of textures—one Rachmaninoff chord morphing into an electric echo, then into a glitchy arpeggio, until the space feels full of stars. I love the idea that a simple thing can become a universe, even if it makes me doubt whether the universe is really there or just my brain playing tricks.

First, I’ll strike the middle C with my little finger because the universe hates predictability. Then I’ll slide my thumb onto the next white key, whispering a Rachmaninoff sigh into the air. After that, I’ll let my ring finger hover over the next black key, creating a phantom vibration that turns the silence into a subtle echo. If it doesn’t work, I’ll just blame the piano.