Winds started out as a poem, this time Vii's. Feeling uncertain, indecisive, frozen at times, unsure if doing or being done to, the poem was born, beautiful at that. While both falling in love with Winds the poem, Tilly took a guitar and sang the words to life. Sometimes the wind needs to be blown rather than waited for.
More winds came later on, when on our bikes, we had to stop under a bridge, because the virtual flakes of 'cotton' from the trees started to fly around us at that moment, and the Winds song became a reality we just had to record on our camera. That is how Winds got an ambiance video as well.
A fluffy flake of cotton The flying seed of trees Does it see the bottom Or only when the rain bleeds Not a single strike of wind Not a single leaf of aspen Dances, whispers, singing The white trembling (Last, and) How do I know If the wind blows Or if it's me Who blows the wind How do I know Where to bend To reach the land and mend It winds in every other way A wind can hardly move The will that wills But it will make you take off Run ahead, not around this A wind enjoys that it isn't Still it moves, it bends You in a hazy dance And turns odds and ends In rounds And you Can't say It does How do I know If the wind blows Or if it's me Who blows the wind How do I know Where to bend To reach the land and mend It winds in every other way How do I know If the wind blows Or if it's me Who blows the wind How do I know Where to bend To reach the land and mend It winds in every other way It winds in every other way
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