My music never lies, but at times it may wink roguishly.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)
... and today when the satellite net is crammed with the stupid drivel of the Hot Humorous 100, where can a gone cat like yourself get the laughs that we were making then just for you?
— David Ossman as Dexter Fong
Mostly what I have not been doing is, finishing composition of Janky Juke Joint. It’s one of those times when I seem simply not to feel motivated to write. Before my stroke, I simply worked on at least one composition, and I was not concerned with motivation. I lived motivation. Is it my brain behaving differently since my stroke? Lassitude resulting from most of the Universe’s indifference to my work? It’s unclear and I don’t seek clarification. I know that I shall write more, but not today. (For one thing, I plan to include the piece on the April program.) The q. of the Universe’s non-need for my work does not occupy my thoughts one way or another at present. I am simply at musical rest.
