An exciting part of composing is sensing that you’re making something which you’ll want to listen to.
I’ve heard composers talk about how much they enjoy listening to their own works. I thought it sounded vain at the time, but now, I agree. Bit by bit, my first composition is beginning to resemble pieces that I like. It’s still unfinished and crude, but once in a while, it lets me catch glimpses of gold.
I wasn’t confident that I’d be able to make music that I like. I thought I might succeed at making music that others like. Perhaps I felt that way because I’m too much in awe of my favourite music. Music that others listen to, in comparison, never seems quite as wonderful.
Music is powerful yet slippery; it’s easy to define good music when you don’t have to do anything but feel. However, when you try to put it into words, it becomes much harder. Like other things, composing seems to get easier with experience, and for that, I’m grateful.