Yesterday, I met Claude Debussy in his “Sunken Cathedral.”
While the French composer has been dead nearly 100 years and I was crisscrossing Alabama in a Honda Civic, I felt as if we’d shared a brief, candlelit encounter.
Silly, I know. But…
Someday I want my work to speak of me with the same breathless, genuine quality that that single prelude spoke of Debussy.
A noble, romantic goal, I readily admit, but why not shoot for a star now and again?