These three works for solo piano are short, but potent, each developing, and eventually blossoming into their own unique musical flora. The first is petulant and fiery; the second, sensitive and melodic; and the third, like a buried bulb latent with potential, eventually bursts and ends in a very different form than it began. They aren’t preludes. They aren’t etudes. They aren’t sonatas or “songs without words.” They are blossoms — three of them.