I tend to agree with Frank Zappa, that writing about music is like dancing about architecture. They are two disparate forms that should respect each others' privacy.
But I've been without it for over a week now (apart from my own guitar-playing of course), and daydreaming about it is starting to prove inadequate. In the last couple of months in Huizhou, at some point of every working day, I listened to Debussy, particularly a piano and violin piece that I didn't bother to learn the name of.
But without anyway to play my CD collection I will go mad soon, or at best, just lose all focus.
I don't know of anybody who put it better than Abba "without a song or a dance what are we" and I'm not into dancing which makes it doubly important.
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