“During this confinement period of more than two months, I was unable to write a song. I mean, I created a lot of music, a lot of soundscapes, but nothing that I can describe as a song. In conversation with different artist friends, photographers, musicians, I found this kind of creative paralysis in many of them.

In my case, I think I simply wrote soundtracks for what I was experiencing, without words, maybe because I haven’t found them yet, or maybe because at this moment it doesn’t even make sense to use the word. The home studio grew, more or less spontaneously, like a mushroom, and the sounds started to appear, mysterious, black, but hopeful.” Paulo Furtado