Penny Candy Redux

 This morning, I heard someone use “literally” correctly, but completely superfluously. Quoth Bertie Wooster: O Death, where is thy jolly old sting?
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

What do you do? How do you do it, how do you create? I find it difficult [...] In truth, you will always find it difficult. The creation of an idea, the following of a story germ, the building up of a plot, the creating of people, of flesh-&-blood character — these are not easy things, they’re extremely difficult. But conversely — don’t be put off by the fact that this month you can’t do it, and next month is maybe even harder. This is, if not a lifetime process, it’s awfully close to it. The writer broadens, becomes deeper, becomes more observant, becomes more tempered, becomes much wiser over a period of time passing. It is not something that is injected into him by a needle, not something which comes on a wave of flashing, explosive light one night, and say, huzzah! Eureka! I’ve got it! And then proceeds to write the Great American Novel in eleven days. It doesn’t work that way, it’s a long, tedious, tough, frustrating process. But never, ever be put aside by the fact that it’s hard. If it weren't hard, everybody would be a writer ....
— Rod Serling

As noted here, the first piece I composed after my stroke, at the kind invitation of David Bohn was the brief toy piano piece Penny Candy. And now, after meeting up afresh with both Olivia Kieffer and Carson Cooman, suddenly we have two fresh performances of the piece.

On Bassoon and Clarinet

 A discovery lovely but rubbery.

— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The tablet was not chalky like aspirin and not exactly capsule-slick either. It felt strange in the hand, curiously sensitive to the touch but at the same time giving the impression that it was synthetic, insoluble, elaborately engineered. ... I watched her sit at the cluttered desk for two or three minutes, slowly rotating the tablet between her thumb and index finger. She licked it and shrugged.

“Certainly doesn’t taste like much.”

“How long will it take to analyze the contents?”

“There’s a dolphin’s brain in my in-box but come see me in forty-eight hours.”

— Don DeLillo, White Noise

A Chamber concert date has arisen at First Lutheran Church in Malden. May the 17th at 4PM. Unfortunately, this doesn’t work for most of the band, so the Henning Ensemble per se will not participate. However, Greta has arranged to play some duets with a clarinetist, so I’ve adapted Janky Juke Joint and one of the Offertories for the twain.

The photo is not First Lutheran in Malden, but First Congregational Church in Woburn.

Yesterday at King's

 Dances With Wolves, meet Grooves in Pavement
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

A man can fail many times, but he isn't a failure until he begins to blame somebody else.
— John Burroughs

Thoroughly pleased with yesterday’s concert at King’s Chapel. Excellent guest music, superb, sensitive musicianship, a nice flow to the program. Whether the fault lay with my brain or my eyes (or both together) I got lost during Dennis’ piece (I did hate doing that to a guest and friend) and worked to find myself while trying not to broadcast my being lost. On one hand, I continued to keep time while aware that I was at risk of missing measures of four. On t’other the band knew the piece so well that if/when my pattern was off, nothing went off the rails.