Years after my mother sold the quirky, rambling house in Barnsbury, London, where I grew up, I went back. It was strange to see a little girl in the window of what had been my bedroom. Later, when I met the family who had moved in, I discovered that this little girl had become a viola player.

This piece, a set of miniatures, is a series of glimpses into my childhood in that house. There was always music my brother a trumpeter and mother a violinist my father a good amateur flautist and sing...