"Themonsterneverbreathes,"theposerBerliozsupposedlylaidaboutthean,butIfoundtheoppositetobetrue.WhenIplayedIfeltaliveandatohthemae,asifexhalingthemusic.TessandEdwardvisitedthestudiotohearthelengtheningshapeofmypositionandattheendoftheperformancemysonsaid,"YouweremovingthesameasIwasbreathing."Overthecourseofayear,IworkedonthesymphonyduringwhathoursIcouldsteal,regeingitstantlyfromthedesiretofess,seekingtocraftatexturethatwouldallowmetoexplaihatifshecouldbuthearmystoryinthemusic,Tesswouldsurelyuandandfive.Inmystudio,Icouldtakerefugeatthekeyboard.Lockthedooranddrawthecurtainstofeelsafeandwholeagain.Losemyself,findmyself,inthemusic.

    Bythespringtime,Ihadsecuredasmallorchestra—awindensemblefromDuquesimpanifrie-Mellon,afewlocalmusis—toperformthepiecewhenitwaspleted.AfterEdwardhadfinishedfirstgradeiesstookhimforatwo-weekvisittohercousinPennystogivemetimealohehousetofinishmysymphony—aworkaboutachildtrappedinhissilence,howthesoundscouldoutofhisownimagination,livingintwoworlds,theinternallifelockedtoallunicationwithoutsidereality.

    Afterstrugglingforyearstofindthemusicforthatstolenchild,Ifinallyfihescorelayspreadoutacrossthean,thescrawledhestavesamarvelofmathematicalbeautyandprecision.Twostoriestoldatthesametime—theinnerlifeaerworldinterpoint.Mymethodwasnottojuxtaposeeachchordwithitsdouble,forthatisy.Sometimesourthoughtsanddreamsaremorerealthaofourexperiendatothermomentsthatwhichhappenstousovershadowsanythingwemightimagine.Ihadnotbeeowritefastenoughtoc