Leaves Turned To Soil Beneath My Feet.

To Fool A Judge, Feign Fascination, But To Bamboozle The Whole Court, Feign Boredom.

The Healthy Can't Understand The Emptied, The Broken.

A Novelist Needs To Know His Own Strong Points And Weak Points.

If I Want To Act Relaxed, It's Going To Take All My Cunning, Skill, And Concentration.

Spent The Fortnight Gone In The Music Room Reworking My Year's Fragments Into A 'sextet For Overlapping Soloists': Piano, Clarinet, 'cello, Flute, Oboe, And Violin, Each In Its Own Language Of Key, Scale, And Color. In The First Set, Each Solo Is Interrupted By Its Successor; In The Second, Each Interruption Is Recontinued, In Order. Revolutionary Or Gimmicky? Shan't Know Until It's Finished, And By Then It'll Be Too Late.