Friday, December 18, 2015

December 18, 2015

We did not cover ourselves with glory at the Cantaria concert, the weak place being exactly that place in the intricate “Silent Night” where the ensemble blubs at the theater. Personally I felt I did well, and it was good to have again the support of my brothers around me. Singing solo night after night is exhilarating, but not restful. Even the weakest singer can sometimes guide and correct.
Food at Avenue M afterwards.
Wake recent mornings to dreams of some intricate procedure or accounting process or memorization task that I can’t quite figure out.
Purcell on Pandora.
Inflammation in my shoulder so great I can hardly lift my hand to the keyboard.
Truman play chugging along, smooth and liquid in the way I have come to recognize successes.
Cold this morning, wintery, at long last. I could live in eternal summer, but my garden could not.

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