Work nos. 108 & 109
The landlord texted me one morning and said he could no longer rent the apartment out. Looking for a new place was stressful enough – having lived in one place for six years – but the move was even more nerve-racking. On the day of the move, I remember I woke up, I was looking at the ceiling, and I felt like I wanted to scream – this is how frustrating it was. And the two studies for MIDI-controlled piano were composed during that time. I was surrounded by packing crates, sheets of cardboard waiting to be made into boxes, huge bundles of packing paper, plastic wrap, bubble wrap. The apartment looked like a mess, furniture dismantled, pictures taken off the walls. It used to be my home, but now it felt completely alien.
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