Mick is my friend and he makes music.
He makes music like playing with building blocks.

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He doesn’t mind how neat he can build them but he cares about the algorithm of its patterns.

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He enjoys making combinations of a direction and a pattern, which turn into an algorithm, and he continuously piles them until his blocks run out.

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He starts with a big vague organic thought which gives him an idea of direction to pile blocks. When he concentrates on following the organically appearing patterns too much, he sometimes ends up somewhere totally different from where he originally planned to go. When that happens, he steps back and sees what he has done and says “That’s life” with a sigh and leaves it.

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One day I took one of his blocks and replaced it in another position. He gave it a glance and asked me to put it back. Some other day I picked up another block and repainted it and put it back where it was. He didn’t say much apart from “Is it a little too silver?”. The other day I carefully changed the direction of the whole blocks. He got angry and nagged at me. So I lost my temper and knocked the whole thing down. He became furious and locked himself in his mind.

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I asked myself why I bother? Because I can feel the existence of his organic sources. Organic motivations?

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One day I saw a big shadow casting over his organic motivation and his blocks. He came out of his mind and told me he knew it as well.

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So we saw each other again in front of his mind door and promised to grow up again.
I said “Samurai Hiho!” and he said “Don’t do this block business to me!”