Epochs shift epochs. New structures are formed under the tips of the fingers. The stream of thoughts flows freely, and ideas are born as if by themselves. You create worlds with one pass of a hand, before which you prostrate yourself subsequently. And then a stunning music breaks out from under your rough hands, over which you have no power. It rushes to where time and space merge into a single whole. Its motif, changing imperceptibly, carries you into the ocean of sound. The steps of the sequences alternate, responding to the aspirations of the soul of an invisible genius nurtured by the experience of generations. And in all this – the integrity of a majestic music! Perhaps this is how happiness sings, and delight fills the cup of appeasement? What can be more beautiful than the contemplation of how the creator creates his creation, and creation creates its creator? No thoughts, no words... There is only a dissolution of consciousness in the music, on which the time itself left its imprint.
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