We are granted time at Civitella in part because we have already figured something out about the processes and motivations of our work. We have produced something of note, or on the verge of doing so. But arriving at the residency, and immersing ourselves in the inspiration of others–it inevitably changes us for the better, compelling to rethink our protocols, our practice, our sources of light. It’s a unique opportunity to live and work and create alongside people in different spheres, and to chase common ground, to understand difference. I came to the residency thinking I would put together a book of essays about music, drawing on pieces I’d published over the past twenty years. But a chance encounter–hearing a violinist practice from across the castle courtyard–made me rethink everything. It reminded me of my own time, as a child, practicing the cello. And as a result I reconceptualized my project to encompass the ways in which we learn, teach, and unlearn. I had grown accustomed to doing things a certain way all these years, it was a delight to have a chance to unlearn some habits and pick up some new ones.