…of frantic work. While everyone else seems to be blissfully sauntering around Union Square browsing for gifts, I hole up in the studio 7 floors above, putting in countless hours on My Hands Are a City. Having the piece finished as soon as possible is necessary … having it finished in time for the Midwest Clinic in Chicago (where I’ll have the opportunity to see most of the commissioners and show them the work personally) is ideal. I seem to recall the exact same situation happening last year at this time with the Concertino … hurried and stressful last-minute work up until it was time to pack for Chicago. In the case of the Concertino, I was only able to complete 2 out of the 3 movements (the 3rd I completed in March after a nasty bout of writer’s block). If this trend continues, I’ll be forced to think this is less of a worldwide conspiracy against me, and more of a personal pattern of behavior.
This situation I hope will turn out better, but it’s still a mountain to climb. I’ve been thinking about, sketching, writing, and editing this piece for about 8 months non-stop, and though my time working on it every day is productive (indeed, “flow” is often experienced), the piece is a monster, and sometimes 9 hours of uninterrupted work will go by, at the end of which I’ll feel like I’ve just chipped away a handful of stone from a 2-ton block of marble.
Block that metaphor, and while you are at it, add in a few more weeks to December, please. Because I have another piece due in January.
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