Certain repeatedly visited locations from our childhoods have the power to stick with us forever. It could be an attic, a relative's kitchen, or a summer cabin. You can remember specific moments being there at different ages, but some of them also become a blur. For me, one of those places was my dad's studio. His studio was mainly for his work as a film orchestrator and composer, but at the age of 8, I took up the drumset and would play in the adjecent room. Eventually I went away to boarding school, and then to conservatory, so I spent less and less time there. Elements of different instruments seemed to pile up and some how all of my childhood toy instruments ended up down there, too. Whenever I'd go back, I'd feel the urge to archive the different elements that made up the studio. So I poorly recorded sounds from the childhood instruments, along with some audio from online music lessons, and interviews of child prodigies. and combined them with video of his studio, to encapsulate the memory of growing up in that environment.