This piece began with small fragments I had collected over time: piano sketches, string textures, the distant nighttime murmur of sounds from my backyard, and other recordings I had stored away without knowing if or when they would find a place. In returning to them, I found myself revisiting not only the recordings themselves, but the memories attached to them: where I was, what I was feeling, who I was with. Each sample became something like a keepsake, fragile but enduring, waiting to be reworked into something new.

Through the process of layering, shaping, and stretching these materials, I tried to give them a different kind of life. Using software to bend, filter, and transform the older recordings, I reflected on the way our experiences shift with time: how memory softens certain edges, how what once felt ordinary can become almost "luminous" in retrospect.

The work of arranging this was a very therapeutic process as I placed each element against the others: strings folding into piano, synthesizers threading through the gaps that were left, and then found sounds adding personal, location-based texture. I was very intentional about leaving some room for sounds to fade and settle, with gaps approaching silence near the end.

At its heart, this music is about connections: between past and present, between sound and silence, between two people who have walked through time together - the old and new selves. It’s both a meditation and a keepsake, meant to evoke the quiet weight of memory but also the hope that comes with carrying those memories forward.