It's Tuesday night, it's grey and dull out, I had turkey curry, and another day away from what I expected to be doing a few weeks ago. The medication is kicking my mood in the right direction but stamping down my energy as it is wont to do. But for the first time since this all started I feel I'm doing the right thing. I will pick up, reduce then go back to reality. It is merely a question of how long it will take.
In the meantime I'm listening to a concert that was recorded in King's on St Cecilia's Day to commemorate the life of David Willcocks. I did not know him personally although I saw him up close on a number of occasions. Some would regard the Ledger years of that famous choir to be amongst the weakest in decades. That's when I sang but I cannot be held wholly responsible for that. I suspect we suffered too much from over exuberance and fear to match some of the great incarnations.
The sublime Faure Requiem is currently filling my flat in all its glory. What a wonderful piece of music. Our recording was terrible. Willcocks' is one of the great recordings of this wonderous work.
I was invited to come to the concert live as an ex chorister but felt that as I didn't know him nor had I sung for him a ticket might better serve someone else.
And what of tomorrow? I won't be going back just yet, I plan to go back to GP on Friday and get a little more time. That will allow me to improve but also reduce the dose so I can function favourably.
I Heard a Voice.
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