8.15 am: A communion. 9.00 am: As one project comes to a close, another commences. Since I was already in writing mode, I remained in it for a further one thousand words, in order to generate an on-line article about an aspect of my sound research. Research doesn’t promote itself. (Think of all the really good books that nobody reads, and all the unworthy tat that millions devour because it was backed by a sophisticated publicity machine.) Developing an audience is the most difficult challenge of creative and scholarly practice – one that I’m not particularly good at. (‘I need both more time and an agent!’)

In the course of writing, I had the opportunity to listen again to some of my early works, from 2009 – when I first ‘came out’ as a sound artist. Reviewing past output, I’ve found, is always an encouraging exercise. I recognise, now, the presence of attributes that weren’t noticeable when they were composed. The work produced in the intervening period has served to interpret and illuminate their antecedents, just as surely as the earlier works provide a telescope through which to espy their successors.

By the close of the afternoon, half the article was complete and the other, in formulation. (Terry Riley’s A Rainbow in Curved Air (1967-8) played mesmerisingly in the background.)

7.30 pm: The historic section of the piece. I heard again Steve Reich’s masterful minimalist tape piece ‘Its Gonna Rain’ (1964) which, along with his ‘Come Out’ (1966), are among those compositions which have had the most significant and enduring influence upon my own sound work. (An extended blog on the former can be read here.) After which, I played Brian Eno’s and David Byrne’s My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (1981). As I’ve probably said before, I’ve always wanted to like this album more than I do. And, finally, I listened to Henry Purcell’s sublime ode: Welcome All Pleasures (1683).