Very often these days, when I start to think about a new piece, I am confronted with a flood of questions: Will this piece be like the last, or will I push myself to discover some new way to express things this time? Do I just start to write and see where things lead, or should I force myself to do some pre-planning (which I hate to do)? Am I writing abstract music, or will the piece be “about” something? It is finding an answer to this last question that preoccupies me the most lately. For example, if I decide to write for a singer, the structure and character of the piece are going to be shaped in dialog with the meaning and expression of the text. But songs with texts are obviously about the subject of the text. There are other, less obvious ways in which a piece of music might be “about something”.

I am dying—not denying that dying is something I’ve been failing to do   for too many years, falling in tears and sweat.  I am like a spider needing the net to catch something   that would be something for me and for others to take.

Because someday it will be illegal or poisonous or both Because your hair doesn’t matter, and neither does your shirt Because you want to make out with the sky Because if someone really loves you, they’ll love you sopping wet