here grows paper

One of the last sentences I heard my late composition teacher Paavo Heininen utter, was when he opened the door to his studio in Järvenpää I was visiting for the first time and said 'täällä kasvaa paperia', 'here grows paper'.

And indeed, there wasnt a surface including the sofa and the grand piano, which wasnt covered in fragments of score and sketches.

I'm frankly delighted of the proliferation of paper on my office desk today. Every time I've taken out a new manuscript paper, it has happened quickly and for the purpose of immediately jotting something down on it. Today's work has had urgency that was lacking yesterday. I promised to have the form of the piece figured out, and the short score ready by Saturday. I'm missing the last section, but otherwise the harmony, the rhythmic outline and gestural choreography is now mapped out for 8 out of 10 minutes.

My handwriting today has been of the kind where the thought is much faster than my ability to write it down, so everything speeds up. This is also the time when notational choices are greatly affected by the first intuition of how this idea could best be jotted down and read by someone else.

This is also a period of happenstances, typos and mistakes becoming integral details and elements of the piece, alongside all the carefully calculated and ruminated-upon material.