Pas a pas, se va luenh.
Step by step, we make our way.

The colour of the magpie, her father was saying, was symbolic of creation. The void, the mystery of that which had not yet taken form. Black and white, he said. Presence and absence.

There is no pattern the human mind can devise that does not exist already within the bounds of nature...Everything we do, see, write, notate, all are an echo of the deep seams of the universe. Music is the invisible world made visible through sound.

For when all else is done, on­ly words re­main. Words en­dure.

What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more.

We are who we are, be­cause of those we choose to love and be­cause of those who love us.