When I put my fingers on the keyboard and chant a mantra or a prayer, I look for "something" in the form of music to surround the voice, but without knowing what "will come". I'm looking at it, I'm finding it as I go along, trying it out, playing, observing what happens, feelings, atmospheres, trying it out. Then maybe something else "comes" to my head and I add it. Actually, the composing process is never finished. Until I say: enough! I record it!
Before recording, I try to evoke the same mental scene: reproduce what occurred to me, to reflect it on the recording.
But I can't reproduce it exactly anymore.
It's just something like that. A crude imitation.
Where did what I played come from? What came into my head, where did it come from?
Why did "inspiration come to me"?
If I hadn't recorded it, there would come a time when I would have forgotten it.
Little by little, it would have dissolved forever... Or maybe it will come to other musicians' heads?
So... doesn't it seem absurd to say "this music is mine"?
It is nothing more than an illusion.
" Anything produced by causes and conditions is impermanent, not only in the sense that it must at some time terminate but also in the sense of its moment-by-moment transformation. The end of birth is death, the end of good is bad, the end of bad is good, the end of togetherness is separation, the end of creation is destruction and the end of composition is decomposition. "
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