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  • He sits to play Mozart’s Horn Concerto No 2 in E flat, K 417 Rondo, and the next moment . . . . it is finished. He stands, bows, and walks away remembering only the exhilaration of the climax, the euphoria of flight, the conscious peace.

    He hands her the words he has written between studio takes, talking about things he has not seen or witnessed. She thanks him for the words of comfort, without a glance . . . . . without a doubt.

    He explains in detail the subtleness of light and shadow in a character, a surrealistic set and sound bathed in warm color and gentle laughter . . . . . but he has only read the play.

    He trusts it to happen
    He sees it come to life

    Now and again
    He is . . . . there.
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