A Composer’s Journal: Entries January 21 - 27, 2005

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January 21, 2005

10:30 a.m. Been walking around the house with choirs in my head all week. I should be finished copying out the finished score for St. Michael by tomorrow. It is below zero again today, although some sun. A foot or so of snow on the woodshed, left from the last few days & more storms on the way. Must call Shaun to bring in more coal.

2:45 p.m. The Prayer to St. Michael is all copied out & is forty nine pages of handwritten score. Next the metronome markings & dynamics need to be put in. I will do that tonight. Then I will orchestrate it. An e-mail from the Strad Magazine: they want to do an article on my string quintet & Bob’s instruments. A list of questions to answer & we have to have everything in by Monday. E-mailed Bob. A message from Diana - she continues her work on laying out Realms of Light & today was her birthday. She wrote: “Friends called and reached out, a few at least, and I’m appreciating their remembering and acknowledging my birthday. None of them know what to say, of course! ‘It’s a pleasure being your friend’ is a pretty lame thing to say, coming from someone who’s been a close friend for 25 years. And she’s a writer!” Needless to say, I wrote Diana back a lengthy message - and wished her a Happy Birthday.

11 p.m. Metronome markings & dynamics are in the score. Had dinner with Bob - trying to develop a strategy for concerts, touring etc. Discussed the magazine article & ranges & transpositions of the instruments. Will begin to orchestrate Prayer to St. Michael next week. Then to finish writing the Images.


Sunday, January 23

4 p.m. Zero degrees again today, minus 20 with wind chill; there are frostbite warnings. An e-mail from the Strad, they want more information on the instruments, the string quintet & the octet & the upcoming concert. A flurry of e-mails between Bob & me, & I am now facing a stack of them, trying to sort & organize all the information. It is due by tomorrow morning, in England - i.e. I must send this all tonight.

I had wanted to work on Images today. Perhaps tonight, when the world is asleep & my other work is done.


Tuesday, January 25

11:08 p.m. Took out the Images. There are more of them than I remembered. 2003, two years ago. Some have no date. These were all written in the French style, more like Visions. Refreshing to return to them, after the string Quintet & St. Michael. Now that I better understand the harp, I think I will make some revisions. I came across many other scores that I had forgotten I had written ...

Warmer today, & no new snow. Two or so feet of fluffed snow on the woodshed. Paid Christina for shoveling & called Shaun for coal. “No prob” he said.


Thursday, January 27

Hovering around zero degrees again today. No snow. The occasional music of icicles breaking, falling from the eaves. One, outside a window that overlooks the back garden, has encased a summer vine - forming sculptures of unusual shapes & thicknesses, crystalline & as clear as glass. JF & I drove by the Falls down the road on our Tuesday excursion, the icicles like streamers down the face of the cliffs; the rock encrusted with a myriad of perfect formations, vast columns & thin strands of ice - like the Divine Ideas that run through each moment of our lives. Later the sun will melt them, but for now they are manifest, tangible. The falls themselves mainly frozen, only a hint of life beneath the ice. “So much snow. Where is the pulse of the falls?” - words to one of my early songs. I remember that day very clearly, standing wordlessly before the frozen falls ...

Tonight, I will check the printed Elegie score for mistakes. Bob has finally found a hall for the Quintet concert & open rehearsal on March 13. The concert will be at 7:30 p.m., we are not yet sure about the open rehearsal. I am still trying to find someone at the TV studio to tape it.

The true artists, like the true Mystics, are always inwardly alert to the Higher, to that which is grander than themselves; in the case of the artist, alert to the Beauty around him or her - & if they are true artists, to the Beauty of their own soul. The Mystic is aware of an even deeper & more universal Beauty. An artist is indeed fortunate to also be a mystic, because their Art then expresses something that all souls yearn for. Their work is unmistakable & lasting, whether it be expressed in brush strokes or sound or stone - or words.

The essence of our every thought, the substratum, the Source of our every idea & perception - is this Divinity. The true Mystic, the true artist & the genius come closer to the Source than most of humanity, & bring that conscious touching of the Divine to others. The artist’s journey is a quest - & the artist brings the world with him. Where he goes, so does his audience, his listeners, his viewers, his readers. The artist or thinker takes us all to that same point in time & space where he himself exists & is focused - & we experience the world as he does in that moment. We can experience his soul in that moment. The older I become, the more I realize how important it is to guard what images & thoughts & sounds we allow into our lives ...

The begonia on the kitchen shelf, in the bay window, is in bloom - pale pink blossoms.