Sourcing an instructional video for persuasion led to me Joshua Bell which led me to watching violin conciertos.
That led to memories of many, many evenings in dark concert halls:
my short legs swinging from the seat, falling into the seat from folding and unfolding it a little too enthusiastically;
watching papa's back, his hands swishing back and forth, controlling instruments, voices;
going through mama's bag for candy, finding a pen, drawing on the concert program, breathing in her perfume;
falling asleep to that smell and the music.
That led to listening to Bach, Paganini, Beethoven, then Sibelius.
That led to remembering our dog, whom my dad named Sibelius and we called him Belly. But our yayas were Bisaya, so they called him Billy. And soon he wouldn't respond to Belly, so we all called him Billy.
He was a good dog. He died and we never had a dog again.
Back to work, then.
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