Meredith starts singing to a room and time becomes honey. Talking stops, eyes pan toward the sound of that voice as it sings to each person individually, whispering to each ear and cheering through the whole crowd. The receipt of her voicing begets ghosts, memories that will leave with everyone in the room in a hook, a chorus, a verse that clips through with a laugh or rests against your warmed cheek. Meredith moves through San Francisco looking for life and shaping meaning as people advance and recede, lights play off walls and window ways, bouncing as they catch on kids moving, side-stepping, denim and floral prints deep hues and black jacket wrinkles. Music manifests her movement through this place, her place her places, foot-free rhythmns gliding dance and pause, dance and a pause, a refuge for a song, a place to get close to heart, and hear it beat.