My inspiration for this piece came from observing the prayer flags of Tibet, which are used to promote peace and spread goodwill and compassion. The texts used in this piece were written by anonymous Tibetan poets, and the translations were completed by Giuseppe Tucci and are complied in his article “Tibetan Folk Songs from Gyantse and Western Tibet.” 

This piece is my response to the pain, which I perceive in the world around me. As Leonard Bernstein said, “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

Riddles was written for and dedicated to my students at Miss Porter’s School.



if: the top of the high world is not on high but below,
the earth below is not down but high,
the warm sun is not hot but cold,
the stormy wind is not cold but warm.

Oh stag do not cross the pass, 
but eat the slender grass of the pasture ground.
Planting four feet on the soil, tell me straight truth!

this place is like the sun,
like a rainbow in the high sky,
I want to see the sun, but it is hidden by the light,
the light of a cloud which rainbow tinges.

Riddles

Note: I'm looking for performances of this piece. If you are interested in playing it, please send me a message! 

Live premiere 3/19/19 in Recital Hall, JSoM, Indiana University. 

Performers:
Trey Bradshaw, Flute  
Collin Lewis, Clarinet

Altered Memories

Live premiere 2/20/20 with student chamber choir in Recital Hall, JSoM, Indiana University. 

The text for this work was sourced from various religious leaders, philosophers, and poets. Through the piecemealing of the text, the composer communicates the journey of an individual as they move from the fear of their own mortality as death is approaching, through the acceptance that death must and will happen to all, and to a final arrival at the understanding that they will live on through the nature that surrounds them. 

Text:
The skull will grin in at the banquet. (William James, 1842-1910) 
The night is darkening round me. The wild winds coldly blow. And yet I cannot go. (Emily Brontë, 1818-1848) 
Be melting snow. Wash yourself of yourself. (Jalaluddin Rumi, 1207-1273; translated by Coleman Barks, b. 1937) 
All composite things must pass away. Strive onward vigilantly. (Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, c. 563/480 - c. 483/400 BCE; translated by Rhys Davis, 1843-1922) 
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. (Kahlil Gibran, 1883-1931)

MelissaArnold