There are moments in life where I am overwhelmed by beauty. Every day I walk with gratitude and wonder, but these moments in particular resonate profoundly. Many of these memories have taken place around water: standing at Signal Hill – on the Eastern point of Newfoundland – feeling the enormity of the cold Atlantic crashing on the rocks; canoeing through a warm misted summer rain, the soft droplets falling all around; seeing cold distant stars, meteors and the unworldly Northern lights reflected in a still dark lake. “Memories in Water” is a four-movement suite that explores my own personal relationship to water as it exists in nature, as a cultural phenomenon, and as metaphor. Beautiful, life-giving, sacred, political, transformative, and restoring.

“Living Stream” is the first movement of the collection. When writing it, I began with an image of clear splashing water, as one might see in a small brook or gentle waterfall. I wanted to evoke the motion of a lively creek against a backdrop of serene trees, the spray dancing in the light. There is playfulness, tenderness, and feeling of movement in the music. Lately I’ve been considering the idea of life and living as a verb; the concept of our being in motion, and how our identities are not fixed but rather exist in our evolving relationships to our communities, friends, kin, nature, ourselves, and each passing moment.

“Weight of Ice,” the second movement, brings us to another place entirely. Standing at the edge of a frozen lake, waist deep in fresh untouched snow, I remember the silence that wasn’t quite silent, and the scent of the cold. This lake had gone into a deep winter sleep, and the ice was thick enough to walk across. For this movement, I drew inspiration from the solidity of that ice, and the strength and weight of the frozen landscape. I also reflected on the times when one feels frozen, when the heaviness of one’s emotions are such that they weigh on the chest, and it is hard to breathe; when there is no next step, and everything slows. When writing this movement I anticipated that it may not be an audience favourite as the unusual texture and sense of tension are neither traditional nor comforting. However, there is beauty, strength, and determination in the frozen landscape that waits with no inkling of spring.

I began writing the third movement, “The River Remembers” shortly after Russia escalated its war on Ukraine, attempting a full fledged invasion in early 2022. There has been so much war, displacement, and natural disaster in my lifetime and our history. Maps have been written and rewritten through war and colonisation, but rivers and waterways have maintained their strategic and cultural importance. I thought about how many tears have fallen into our rivers, and how every time someone has cried by their banks, that moment will always exist in time though the mourner is gone and all memories of the day are forgotten. I thought about how we shape our rivers, and how they shape us. I thought about the love between the river and its people, as they mourn and rebuild.

The inspiration for the final movement “Waterfall Under Ancient Stars” is pure fantasy, as I’ve never (yet) seen a waterfall at night! I imagined the most beautiful forest waterfall against the backdrop of a night sky full of twinkling stars and meteors. I could feel the wonder of it all: stars that were both present but shining on us with yesteryear’s light, and a waterfall that was both carved into ancient stone, but constantly renewed in the flowing current. I wanted this movement to be pure delight and awe – an invitation to see and feel the magic all around us.