The flute rotates around the tuba, then the tuba – around the flute. And then they change places, and then go back as they were again. And so it goes on and on. It could be without beginning or end.

By the way, I remembered that in my baccalaureate essay (topic: “Creationism or Documentarism? Which of the two artistic methods depicts the world more accurately?”), I wrote of Bach’s music that it is an eternal form, of which we learn only snippets, in specific pieces.It was an example of appropriating some competence exaggeratedly, without fully understanding what is being said, in order to impress the Polish language teacher (which was quite successful, by the way), because I didn’t know much about anything at the time, certainly not about Bach or eternity. But it was also an example of a thought coming to my head out of the blue and staying there; with time came the understanding, which became better and better, until the thought became full assimilated. That’s just the way it is, not only with Bach. Musical forms use sections (sometimes single sections, or sets of many different sections at once) of full pieces bigger than the work itself. And they keep referring to these full pieces, suspending the local time for the duration. Like with Jodie Foster in “Contact”.

I can’t remember whether I picked creationism or documentarism in my essay. It is very possible that I was foolish enough to claim documentarism was the way. Or the other way round.

(transl. Magdalena Małek-Andrzejowska)