Imprinted in your cerebellum are the moments most worth a memory. Tied in a bow of emotion and senses, those instances set free from their wrapping by a familiar smell or minute glimpse of déjà vu. I want to impress this upon you because it’s bound to happen when listening to Micromelancolié. There is no happenstance in the name or the idea behind it. Ensemble Faux Pas emits confusing yet pleasurable signals to the brain. These remembrances are best as happy accidents. A gathering that goes against the plan, establishing its own set of standards out of the ruins of what was expected. The sound of a distant dog’s bark; the cool breeze blowing in a distant melody from wind chimes. It may all be the things of poetry but when you find a scheme that speaks to your situation, you clutch it dearly. Do not grasp Ensemble Faux Pas too roughly, because it does have a fragile container. But if it should break, you will still have those fond, but faint (and fading) recollections of day passing into night. That first love. That first child. That first dance.
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