The way I uninterruptedly approach and reconsider the experience of time (as a composer, performer or listener), through my individual act of remembering, is the key to understanding those musical events that were once my present and are now my past, even when I do know that the individual acts of registering and remembering arise from a fight against memory. Because, in spite of the possibility of the endless repetition (recording), the musical experience in real time exists only once; its time goes by, and, as it does, it also closes up not to exist again. Thus, when faced with this reality, I end up recognizing that the complex act of remembering is the very last stage of the musical experience, and that, once there, I am left alone, alone and compelled —sometimes even against my own will— to fight for the conservation of its substance, to keep it unchanged, though knowing (always knowing) that it will not remain intact.~