(ON VIDEO ABOVE) The opportunity technology has provided the composer to record a song idea to "come back to later" has been a seductive means for me over the last half-decade. Rather than stopping everything to give myself to the rote memorization of a melodic line written into my book in a strange ink geometric code before it's fled the coop, I've simply dropped the sound into my laptop's little "photobooth" app, convinced at the time that I'd find it again in the soon future. For better or worse, the human being is a sweet bundle of gentle contradictions and so, while I must firmly believe I'll return to complete each musical piece, a year-in-review has exposed a sizable trough of material never finished, or even more-so, never revisited. This last week, I bared to "flip through" months of past sonic ideas. Not only was it embarrassing and funny to see this process, but I then churned again and chewed on the many sonic ideas of 2014, often returning to the same feeling of discarding them as "unfinished", for the second time. Here they briefly are, in a kind of compilation. I kept each clip only 1-3 seconds long for those (all) of us who cannot bare to watch anything that hasn't been polished and designed for utter attention seduction, so the music is not really affectively the point of this short, but instead I guess I am featuring here the idea of how many pieces begin---to never find their whole place in the sonic world. It's bittersweet. Sound and song is churning through all of us, all of the time; the narrative and frequency is simply our DNA. And Rosalind Franklin knew that.