When I was little, there were power lines across the street, in the cornfield, and when I stood beneath them I could hear them hum. I was convinced, at the time, that by listening to the power lines hum I was, in some sense I did not understand (or more accurately did not have an interest in understanding), approaching some knowledge of being-power, being-electricity. I began doing this with other sound-areas: drains, rivers, refrigerators, anything that emitted a constant yet varying tone. From this point, I worked my way into more complex forms, such as bird-song, insect-song, pig-song, appropriating the characteristics of the hum.

the exit is hidden within the exit