Writing is placement, the craft of context.  I hear something, and it is rich, dense with meaning.  I play it - perhaps instead it sounds like a syphilitic yak.      Except there is probably some sonic interest in the mewlings of a dying, pock-marked yak.  The writer's challenge will be to put an undeniable trajectory from here (the beginning) to there (the meaning moment) and back again (perhaps).  The analyst's dilemma is to take apart an irreplaceable sensation and trace a path that shows exactly why your hidden note has meaning. 

Maybe I hear that sweet initial melody, and it is heard while someone stands behind me, swearing 'Fuck' for nothing. 

(fuck fuck fuck fuck.)

Maybe while I'm playing the piano, you should have an iPod with the 'Fuck' track on repeat.   

When I was a student, I wrote a piece for four spoken voices.  Each voice had four lines, each line repeated 50 times.  I forget what they were.  The piece ended after about 5 minutes with 'Catch me if you Can, a sing-song cadence, counterpoint to a final fearsome statement of 'Fuck', repeated to the end.   I don't recall what my thinking was with this one.  Some Jack the Ripper agitation, compounded by a youthful listening of Lulu?   But I was much more taken in by  Wozzeck (and if it be told true, then even more by  Strauss's Salome).   

My friend, who had drawn the lucky page with this direction, had used impeccable instinct to save it all for the end.      He was a great violinist, who deserves a better memory than to be embarrassed and discomfited by my choice of language.  I recently found a taped performance where we played Brahms d minor violin sonata.  We made a show of it, playing with a spotlight and some funky shoes.  A ragged performance, but alive and filled with spunk.   I wrote a poem listening to that tape, a free form piece that turned towards a rough -edged lust for song, for life, for him and all that absolute belief could have ever meant. 

God but that was sweet, that second movement.  And the poem will be found some day.  For now, it lies unread and no doubt in this half/re-formed resuscitation it is twice the hymn.