A mother and child. The child pretending to be ill, the mother knowing better, understanding something else at work. She runs her fingers through the child’s hair. Maybe a glass of milk and something sweet. Grandmother’s heirloom quilt, the one that smells of the attic chest, brought out carefully and added to the layers of comfort. Tucked in for a midday drift.
What The Bird of Music achieves, is to capture the point of view from both sides of the story at once. Not just the scenario detailed above, but any human interaction where melancholy and beauty intertwine. The pop and burst of the music prevents these sentiments from becoming morose, instead allowing them to blanket us in empathy and understanding.