the marble tea webthing

Inlet

The dragon roars from the other side of the canal, startling me from this sketch about something that may or may not have happened. It certainly could have I suppose, and possibly did somewhere.

Another exercise in repetition. Another exercise in repetition. I dream of one day writing a song with no repetitive elements. A song that grows, as Virgil Thomson has said, like a plant, organically flowering from root to stem to limbs stretching toward the Sun. A natural progression that builds upon itself and then takes leave of its previous melody and rhythm.

Today is not that day. The dragon is getting closer….

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