Composition

The title of this piece grew out of the composer’s contemplation on how the names of cities, streets, and roads often pass unnoticed — words we use without thought, stripped of the histories or affections they once carried. Yet for each of us, certain places hold private meanings — a name that recalls a voice, a street that keeps a memory, a corner that still belongs to someone once dear. Amidst the pace and noise of urban life, where people are always arriving, leaving, forgetting, and beginning again, the violin becomes a vessel for what remains unspoken. The work is an emotional map of attachments — to people, to places, to ghosts that never introduced themselves — a meditation on love, memory, and distance: between those who stay and those who move on, between homeland and elsewhere, between one kind of intimacy and another.