Last winter we got snowed in, luckily we were at the studio, so with no food or drinks, we had to take our minds of the fact that we’ll have to spend the time locked in until the snow melted, so we decided to work on new recordings influenced by the situation. The snow is all up over the window, It might be even up over the top of the house, and from time to time we had the feeling that we may have been asleep for a week, for all we know. We couldn't even tell what day it was, or whether we had slept one night, or two nights, or even longer. Looking out at the windows was like looking at a detuned TV set, reflecting just flickering green lights from the electronic equipment, sometimes vanishing and re-appearing in the blink of an eye. The only attempt of contact from the outside were by pointing powerful microphones through the masses of snow, trying to monitor any or little activity, whooshing noises, static bursts, buzzing melodies even voices. As we doctored the tapes of our recordings we seemed to have created weaknesses in space and we developed a total, complete darkness finding ourselves out of this world, travelling without moving, into the flickering green light.