Those of us who found we were sitting on or next to an empty cinema type numbered seat with black gaffer tape covering its number gathered at the front of the room and then, after a ten-minute break, entered into a windowless studio where two rows of seats were arranged in a semi-circle. In front of the seats were three high microphones, a keyboard, and a table with an Apple Mac laptop on it (the iconic corporate apple sign was the only thing that glowed in the dark while we sang). After an introduction from Drummond, he played a note and its octaves above and below and we hummed along to get in pitch to a count of ten. His recording man checked all was entering the Mac hard disc and then Drummond counted 1,2,3,4 and we began singing the note for five minutes, stopping only as we wished for breath. The lights were turned off so that we would not feel embarrassed. One was aware of the people each side and voices coming from behind and around while simultaneously being aware of one’s own thoughts – at least I was. I loved the idea of just breathing whenever, as opposed to singing for a phrase, and after a time decided that as five minutes was a long time I would use it as a meditation and walk along a beach, North Berwick beach. By the time we had done the first five-minute note I was only half-way along the beach.