The view from my studio window never gets old. The frozen lake stretches out like a blank page, with soft ripples of snow brushed over the surface. My hands rest on the piano keys, not moving yet. I like to sit like this for a while, letting the quiet settle in. Out here, inspiration comes in small, simple ways—the drip of melting icicles, the wind nudging its way through the cracks, a seabird calling out somewhere far off. That’s where 'Time Flies' began.

The music feels like a conversation with the world outside. The notes aren't about capturing anything big or grand; they just reflect what I feel in the moment—calm, yet a little bittersweet. Composing out here isn’t about big revelations. It’s more about noticing the quiet details—and letting them lead the way.