It had been a good morning. The way to pace a transition I'd been working on for days had come to me at 5 am. I was up now, realizing the rhythmic sketches at a feverish pace - another half hour, and I'd be done.  I gaze at the clock - 6:15. Plenty of time! The pencil hits the paper again with reckless abandon and then... I hear it.

The pattering of tiny feet racing down the hall. In a second the door will burst open and a high pitched voice will excitedly inform me that she's up - composing time, is over. 

As my daughter and I eat breakfast and talk about the upcoming day, my mind can'thelp but drift and wonder if I'll be able to recollect the solution later this evening.  Will I have the energy after she's in bed? And if so, will the half hour it would have taken me to realize the transition this morning, stretch into 2 or 3 hours?

I'm sure I'm not alone in these endeavors. As artists, it's easiest to act at the moment of inspiration, rather than try to recollect the inspiration after the pressures of the day have set in. However, if you've chosen, as I have, to try to be a good parent, you simply can not relegate your kids to the back burner while continuously feeding selfish artistic desires. You must find some balance between your artistic needs and the needs of your family. I began to wonder how other composers with children attempted to achieve this balance. A survey revealed some interesting strategies. 

Several of the composers who participated in my survey advocated breaking the composition into smaller, more manageable chunks that could be completed in short intervals. For example, one composer works on a melody one day, harmonizes that melody the next day, works on some ideas for development the next, and so on. The key, according to this composer, was to write a little everyday, rather than a lot in one day with several days break in between.

if you've chosen to be a good parent, you cannot relegate your kids to the backburner while feeding selfish artistic desires

Another composer shifted his composing time to late at night to preserve family time. He also advocated working out compositional ideas while exercising to help move pieces forward.

Some composers also altered their compositional expectations - albeit in different ways. One indicated that he approaches composing a bit more simply now. He uses improvisation, one-to-one counterpoint, and a melody-accompaniment model as his primary modes of composing. He has found this approach just as satisfying artistically.

Another composer altered his expectations of compositional output. Prior to having a child, he would complete 5 chamber works per year.  "I don't try to force myself to compose every day or even every week anymore," he relayed. "It's often not possible, and if I relieve myself from having the expectation of accomplishing anything, I don't feel as worried about it, and then when I do get some good writing in, I am even more appreciative of the time. In practical terms, it means that I now attempt to compose one strong work a year [and, as a result] I feel better about the music I'm writing."

Interestingly enough, several of the composers surveyed noted how having children had altered their aestheticperspective in very positive ways. One composer stated "I am a better composer for the experience of being a parent. I have more and better things to say in my music."  I couldn't agree more! 

And finally, there doesn't seem to be a historical correlation between being a parent, and a low compositional output. One need only look at the example of Bach for proof. 

Enjoy your kids. Enjoy your writing. It's all good.