The weather changes every twenty minutes, going from thunderclaps and high winds to peace and sunlight before one has a chance to note the difference. Much like the changing facets of the shimmering gem I envisioned Franck's
Prelude, Fugue et Variation to be in order to visualize its constantly morphing shades of mood, flitting from momentary hope to darkening disappointment but restless, never settling.
1 comment:
best of luck to all who have their organ juries in the next few days! candles will be lit :)
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