The compositional problem of music…

Half asleep and half dreaming, I was considering the compositional problem of starting and ending music.  The problem is better explained, perhaps, by an analogy with painting.  While I love paintings, I’ve always had trouble with the way they seem to sit so incongruously in their frames on walls, as if the image one saw in the painting was like one out of a window, entirely unrelated to the setting in which it rests.  Rather than merging into its surroundings, with walls gradually transforming themselves into painted image which gradually turns back into wall, the painting is a hole punched into the continuity of the room.  A music composition is similar, except in that it takes place in time rather than within a space.  The music starts out of whatever precedes it – silence, the sounds of people sitting together, noises from outside – and ends with what follows – again, silence, or applause, or whatever.    Somehow I dream of writing music that effortlessly merges out from and back into the rest of the sounds of the universe…