In a virtual space somewhere between  Wellington, New Zealand and Montreal, Canada, Preston and I her discussed work in close relation to the conditions, collaborations and trajectories that make it so. The sound of breath, Scandinavian külning, ventilators, cuckoo-clocks and the body all emerged as conduits. Preston’s investment in situating her work and self-situating within it—locating her projects within their particular connections, collaborations, memories, histories and skills—was inspiring, especially at a time of such fragmentation and disjuncture. Hearing Preston’s voice through a frozen screen, persisting over visual glitches and lagged response, not only affirmed Preston’s assertion that “sound always pierces the visual” but too, that sound is a vital index to the present: “it’s always the now.”