There is a tradition in the north so old that tradition itself falls silent about its origin. The first act of creation is a single vertical stroke. (Readers of the Maier Files will recognise where this is going.) IS. Ice. The primal stillness before anything moves. One line. One note. And inside that one note — if you listen with the right kind of attention — you will hear the octave above it, the fifth above that, the third above … Continue reading The Man Who Signed His Name in God’s Music