I was once reading a lot of Morton Feldman, and on a flight back home a stewardess bought me three rounds of drinks, and I wrote her a poem on the back of a score I was working on.
I walked off that plane feeling very content.
It took me three days to realise I had been reading too much Feldman.
conversing without Feldman
Saturday, 8 January 2011 at 23:55 under art, diary, life, music, thoughts
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