Movement No. 1: Moderato. I can’t remember ever not knowing this piece, but I don’t seek it out. It always seems to find me. I still hear it with the scratch of needle on vinyl, spinning on my dad’s hi-fi. The scent of vinyl lingers in my memory more than four decades later. On Sunday afternoons he taught me to hold stars in the heart of my earthly body.
Movement No. 2: Adagio sostenuto. The dogs of Poli Street are howling high and long and slow.
Movement No. 3: Allegro scherzando. There are so many things I’ve remembered; others I’ve forgotten. There are spaces when the forgetting and remembering merge into one and we simply inhabit the the notes. We call this music or love.