What A Thrill, What A Shock, To

Oh, All You Immigrants And Visionaries, What Do You Hope To Find Here, Who Do You Hope To Become?

That Is What We Do. That Is What People Do. They Stay Alive For Each Other.

What A Thrill, What A Shock, To Be Alive On A Morning In June, Prosperous, Almost Scandalously Privileged, With A Simple Errand To Run.

What I Wanted To Do Seemed Simple. I Wanted Something Alive And Shocking Enough That It Could Be A Morning In Somebody's Life. The Most Ordinary Morning. Imagine, Trying To Do That.

Philip Glass, Like [virginia] Woolf, Is More Interested In That Which Continues Than He Is In That Which Begins, Climaxes, And Ends... Glass And Woolf Have Both Broken Out Of The Traditional Realm Of The Story, Whether Literary Or Musical, In Favor Of Something More Meditative, Less Neatly Delineated, And More True To Life. For Me, Glass [finds] In Three Repeated Notes Something Of [a] Rapture Of Sameness.