Hello, everybody.
This is one of those strange days when I wake up ready to work hard, but somehow the atmosphere shifts. Memories come flooding back, and suddenly I feel a heavy weight pulling me down. I’m deeply sad for no particular reason, and today I found myself missing my mum terribly.
I’ve been writing music for a Momonsters movie that will be released in a few months, and life decided to place a Christmas film in front of me while I was staring at a blank page.
My mum loved Christmas. My mum was Christmas. And a big part of her lives on through me for that very reason, because I love Christmas too.
I started properly writing the music about three months ago, with my mum’s photo beside me, watching over me. Then, out of nowhere, music began coming into my mind in a way it hadn’t for a very long time—probably years.
Everything started making sense within the film. The villains had their motifs. Christmas had its own melody. The Momonsters had their usual theme, but some of them also began to develop their own special music—ideas that had never occurred to me before.
The curious thing is that many of the best ideas I’ve had for this movie came while I was doing something completely unrelated. It was that stereotypical “moment of inspiration” that I almost never experience.
I’d be doing the laundry and suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to rush into the studio, grab a guitar or sit at the piano, and start writing. And then, there it was—probably one of the best pieces I had written.
That happened at least three times throughout the movie and, believe me, that is a lot.
She loved Momonsters. I know she did.
She is whispering music into my ear from heaven. I know that too. I can feel it.
Wherever you are, Mum, I miss you with all my heart. I would rather write terrible music and still have you by my side, but life doesn’t work that way.
And it sucks.
This music is for you.
This music is you.
I love you, Mum.
