Mylong-fottenhistorypeekedoutfrombehiains.ThequestionsMesposedduringhypnosishaddredgedupmemoriesthathadbeenrepressedformorethaury,andfragmentsofthosesubsciousrecollesbeganintrudingintomylife.Wewouldbeperfoursed-rateimitationofSimonandGarfunkelwhenanuedGermanismwouldleapoutofmymouth.TheboysinthebandthoughtIwastripping,andwedhavetostartoverafterabriefapologytotheaudience.OrIdbesedugayoungwomanandfindthatherfacehadmorphedintothevisageofageling.AbabywoulddIdwonderifitwashumanorabundleofholyterrorthathadbeeonthedoorstep.Aphotographofsix-year-oldHenryDaysfirstdayofschoolwouldremindmeofallIwasnot.Idseemyselfsuperimposedovertheimage,myfacereflectedintheglass,layeredoverhisfadwonderwhathadbe,whathadbee.Nolongeramonster,butnotHenryDayeither.IsufferedtryingtoremembermyowthatGermanboystoleawayeverytimeIdrewnear.

    Theonlyremedyforthisobsessionwastosubstituteanother.Whenevermyminddwelledoantpast,Iwouldforcemyselftothinkofmusiningalternativefingeringsandthecycleoffifthsinmymind,hummingtomyself,pushingdarkthoughtsawaywithasong.Iflirtedwiththenotionofbeingapainevenascollegeaspirationsfadedwhileawoyearsslippedby.Intheseeminglyrandomsoundsofeverydaylife,Ibegantoabstractpatterns,whichgrewtomeasures,whichbecamemovements.OftenIwouldgobacktoOscarsafterafewhourssleep,putonapotofcoffee,andscribblethenotationsresonatinginmyhead.Withsolelyapianoavailable,Ihadtoimagineanorchestrainthatemptybarroom,andthoseearlyscoreseychaotifusionoverwhoIam.Theunfinishedpositioentativestepsbacktothepast,tomytr