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Why I compose, why I still compose?

(and why do you compose, or, why do you do what you do?) 

A blank sheet, the empty freedom. A pencil, the pleasant sound and touch it creates against the sheet. Besides them, there is a cup of black tea, and out there, it’s dawn. This is what I love - all the smallest things involved in writing. I feel at home. This is where I am, where I should be, and where I have always wanted to be. My refuge. I write a piece in peace.


Right, write. “Writing” does not have to be “music-writing.”.............

Editing in progress. Coming soon!

"Why do you do what you do?"

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