Mitchell Wescott and I start by playfully exercising our demons through throwing sticks, bouncy balls, hardware, a handheld massage abacus-esque thing, and large drums pieces at a dissembled drum set strategically placed around the room. I remind mitch of #deadraccoonTO and we discuss the tiny pylons placed after the body was taken, overtop of the sparser re-assembly of the drum set, and at times manic with laughter. Mitch's synth is honest with its emotional processing of the whole affair. A back-alley lullaby follows. Our closing remarks distort the lullaby and explore the instability of a secure connection; humans act as antennae, at times unable to focus through the buzzing cloud of signals. By incorporating and experimenting with this cloud, creative potential grows infinitely. April 2017 2