Yesterday I had this meaningful day - and I came home willing to write a piece, and I did, and I didn't have a name for it. I named it '1', and I remembered when my grandfather told me about the origami cranes, the tsuru: once you could fold a thousand of them, you got a wish realized.
I found this idea really elegant. Over the last years I have been increasingly interested in superstition and little rituals such as this. I remember my grandfather would fold any paper we'd come across even though he lost the count of how many he had folded. It didn't matter really much. I could relate to this: many times, when you write a piece, you don't really know whether there will be musicians to play it, when it is going to be played, if it is going to do you any good. Yet you do it, anyway.
When you study/work with music (and that probably means you have bands, recording gigs, school assignments and many things you wouldn't normally do by yourself), you can see many times people transforming their internal aesthetic sense to match the most appropriate to their routine tasks. They kind of die inside to become quicker workers and respond naturally to an environment that wasn't theirs naturally.
Many times, when artists do this, they turn to another form of art, or to something else in their lives. I've heard of a designer that worked in a big company that forced its style upon him and because of that, he had taken all of his artistry of visual arts. He became a part-time musician.
As much as I have tried drawing, I don't want to shift away from music nor kill my internal musicianship to become snappier on the outside. Yesterday I decided that I'll invest in a lasting nourishment for that guy - I will learn how to fold the tsuru, and for each tsuru I will compose a solo piece. If I made one a day, it'd be a three years' project, but I know it will take me longer - or, like yesterday, I will get very little sleep.
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