Dry morning

There is an undeniable temptation to generalize about Thursday mornings, when this morning (which I believe was a Thursday) found me with too little motivation to carry on with work on the duo. But I am not certain that to g. about Th. would genuinely serve the quest for truth. So I'm just going to consider this morning, a morning.

And after all I have the evening free, and I can log in some work. 'Twill not be an idle day.

No one is in a hurry to read the Kyrie. Which actually signifies nothing artistically. Oh, there is perhaps the temptation (quite possibly a genuinely vicious temptation) to think, why do I bother? But if I do not find the answer to that question in the very music which I myself have written, I really should pack it in. The piece will be sung: of that I feel certain. Even if, for any number of reasons, the conductor I have sent it to now elects never to program the piece, somewhere someone will sing it. I know that the piece sings, so to speak. It is the nature of the piece, which is the reason to have written it.

I've been in touch (at last, and again) with my old buddy, Jeff, because it occurs to me that the Cello Sonatina is particularly suited to dancing. Did I notice this as I was writing it? Quite probably.

Anyway, I have long been keen to renew a dancing collaboration with Jeff. Just a matter of logistics.