Time after time I get convinced, that one should be living out of some place away while making music.  It is hardly possible to transmit a new experience through music without tasting it. Especially when it is something quite alien, something from another world. But it is not true that the musician is not living here at the moment. The musiscian is living here. But out of some quite different place. Like a magnetic storm, if try mparing.

Something in the musician should be extremely inadequate, dwelling in certain moments in the platonic world of ideas. Or better even in some other space, most incomprehensible and inaccessible.

Strangely enough, when Olga Scotland plays about iron flowers from Sirius, it becomes quite obvious that she has really visited the place, and maybe still remains there.

P.S. Carefull with the composition "Harbour Of Sevastopol". Listening to it thoughtfully provides a good reason to thik that cities posess their own consciosness and may actually be a part of some hidden civilisation.