I’m waiting for the planes to tumble
Waiting for the towns to fall
I’m waiting for the cities to crumble
Waiting till I see you crawl
I don’t want to know about evil
Only want to know about love …
(John Martyn, ‘Don’t Want to Know’, Solid Air (1972))
WFH: DAY 100. (Is this a milestone or a millstone?) 8.00 am: A communion. I concluded my studies in the Gospel of John. (What next? An Epistle, perhaps.) 8.30 am: Some ‘issues’ of postgraduology just wouldn’t go away. ‘It’s all a question of attitude, John!’ He was right. (Keep your cool; remain courteous; commit to the pleasantries; be clear and measured in your response; maintain a sense of perspective; and drink more tea.)
9.30 pm: I listened once again to ‘The Singing Angels’ and the ‘This Sweet Sounding Bell’ [working titles] compositions, and worked on both in tandem. They have a relation, textually, that ought to be realized sonically. The first composition is, in essence, a song for two distinct and intertwining ‘voices’:
12.00 pm: The composition was substantially ‘there’ (wherever that is).
1.30 pm: On with the second composition. This, too, involved an interplay between a pair of ‘voices’. But these, in contrast, were the same in timbre. But the process of composition was entirely different:
3.00 pm: After some reading, in order to refocus my eyes, I pushed on while running low on fuel. 4.30 pm: ‘I want OUT!’ Gravestone, half buried:
Signs of the time:
7.30 pm: I continued distilling sub-samples from two ‘voice’ samples that I’d overlaid during the afternoon.