Getting ready to play Quartet for the End of Time in a few hours. So far today I have rehearsed with my trio, deposited some checks, gone to the grocery store, done laundry, organized music, and prepared a roasted beet salad and stuffed spaghetti squash for lunch. Now I'm worried, because this day has been too uneventful and well-adjusted for me to properly channel the conditions of a German POW camp.
Maybe later I'll go for a run while listening to Wagner or something.
Where does the time go? One minute I'm fretting about not having enough to do, the next I'm buried under a mountain of repertoire because I simply can't stop saying no to people. Someday I'll figure o
Suddenly half a year has gone by. "You'll write more," you tell yourself, greeting every day with a promise that "Today will be the day I start on that story/essay/novel" and every day the same ending
In an early post from this blog, dated December 30, 2013 (almost nine years ago to the day), I wrote: "The week between Christmas and New Year's is one of my favorites. Nothing too pressing ever happe