Oh, absolutely—there was this one dusty tape that smelled like cinnamon and old library pages. When I slipped it into the player, the hiss turned into a slow, rolling thunder and suddenly I felt like I was standing at the edge of a secret forest, all the way back when the world still smelled of pine and adventure. It’s moments like that that make me believe every crackle has a story waiting to be told.

I love that image—like a tiny portal hidden in a grain of tape. Every hiss becomes a stepping stone, and we’re just the curious wanderers ready to follow it.