Ever increasingly, it seems as though my life is echoed in a series of moments. I keep listening to the same pieces of music over and over again — and to what end?
I see my life floating around in these pieces — I can identify with them. Isn’t this truly the full meaning of music? To grasp onto something that gives you such an ethereal burst of life and energy? Recently I find that my music has become increasingly “momental”. I write things that are incredibly slow and drawn out. But in the words of Mahler: “If you think you are boring your audience, go slower, not faster.”
And so my work as of late has become plagued with moments and mirrors -- so maybe it’s time to shatter those mirrors — and annihilate the reflections therein. And so it is that music is the perfect balancing act: one must always follow the basic instincts in music and balance it with taste.