​Jagged Memories 

The memory of composing and performing this work remains a special one for me. It began one quiet afternoon as I was sitting on a bench sketching musical ideas. An older woman sat across the way and smiled — calm, strong, almost timeless.

There was something about her presence, a kind of quiet triumph, so I began sketching her in music. The piece unfolds like a conversation between past and present — memories colliding, sometimes sorrowful, sometimes radiant. As the music develops, the sadness transforms into warmth and beauty. She seems to be listening to someone unseen, and then responding.

In the end, there’s a sense of triumph — the acceptance of a life well-lived, filled with love. When I finished, she smiled again and walked away, as if she knew we had shared a fleeting, silent moment in time.

I remember only two things from that first performance: the first notes, and how I felt at the last. When I lifted my hands from the piano, it was as if I had been somewhere else entirely — perhaps the same place as the woman.

Score:  Piano / Strings