I’m taking a while to talk about things like talismans because it’s really hard for me to talk about myself. Maybe I shouldn’t do it, maybe you should be the one to write this chapter after years have passed. But I think that if while you’re growing up something should happen to me your chain will not be linked, the memories I want to leave you will be broken, Xoana, my little girl whose arrival will change the musical score of my life, you who will become that allegro giocoso it hasn’t been until now.

And perhaps, as someone once said, everybody buys sadness where they want and how they want.

I’m trying to say that maybe I didn’t know how to create happiness, that I did not make prudent use of that wealth of happy moments life gives us. Or perhaps I gave myself to ephemeral things – often the most beautiful ones – with too much passion, and I wanted them to be eternal, which was contrary to their very essence.

The fact is your mother tends to be melancholic.

I already told you that I was born not too long after my parents were married. I already told you that I always thought they seemed very much in love, so it’s not hard to imagine that I’m a love child and maybe the only thing they could accuse me of is that I arrived a little ahead of time, but they didn’t do that. I never felt I wasn’t loved, even when I did things they didn’t like. You already know how close I was to Grandmother Carolina, whose absence is still painful.

I went to school, to an agrupación escolar, primary school, and I completed what was then called Ensino Xeral Básico. My grades were good. I didn’t really study that much, but I paid attention in class and after read a lot. I read everything I could get my hands on.

Around that time a mayor who was a music lover supported the creation of a basic conservatory in the town. That was a stroke of luck for me. I was excellent in music theory as well as the violin and balanced them with no problem in the required curriculum. When I’d finished high school and the basic and mid-levels of music, I left for Compostela, where I did advanced courses. After that I went to Madrid to study Harmony and Composition. Later, as you know because I told you about it when I talked about my grandmother’s death, I received a scholarship to study in Germany. I also added to my knowledge in Paris, with a violinist who was internationally famous. Don’t take this as a lack of humility, but I’m one of the greatest interpreters of Mozart, which means I have to travel a lot because I’m invited by different orchestras to perform with them. But my job is with the Philharmonic, where I’ve had a seat for several years. Since Alexei the first violin left, I’ve been mentioned as his substitute and in fact I’m already serving in that capacity. I think that if I don’t officially have that role it’s because in this country the idiocy that leads us to respect those from other countries more is still in effect. These things make me feel like leaving, but the truth is that like one of Atahualpa Yupanqui’s songs goes, “I like the air here.” I want to live and work in my country, which has been so drained by the loss of those who had to go elsewhere to earn a living. In any event, I won’t bore you any more with my curriculum, because you can find it in the programs and reviews I’m saving for you.

I would, however, talk to you about what music is to me. Beyond the definition of the art, which can be found in any dictionary or manual, beyond the definition of the term, there are the connotations that are based upon each person’s experience. How could I explain a passion, a desire, an infinite obsession to you? How could I explain the wings of the wind that takes me away, the claws of the bird of prey that grabs me, the ecstatic shiver that grips me? Yes, my daughter, who when you read this will be a grown woman, it’s the same as love. But this thing, music, never let me down. Now it’s time to tell you about the other.