I'm doing a second edit of a work for the lovely Navitas Ensemble today. A collection of three short pieces that are about memory and the beauty of found noise/found objects and the frustration of never quite being able to capture sensation...I love that excited process of imagination--of starting something new, pacing, wallowing in sound, getting drunk on that idea that I can do anything in this tiny universe of my piece. And then I have to tame it, to make it make sense, to drag it kicking and screaming out of my head and try to make it legible and discernible to someone else. And that, dear reader, is where I start negotiating the price of translation...
Movement I (an early draft)
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