More displacement therapy

I took with me on holiday two books of poems (bought because I thought they might make interesting songs). One book is a group of translations of Japanese lyrics and the other is Tagore's Gitanjali newly translated into English poetry. I looked at neither.

I did manage to start re-re-reading Diarmaid Macculloch's biography of Cranmer with a view to creating a libretto for a full length oratorio, but quailed at the size of the task. Though I have made a list of around 50 quotes from Cranmer's own writings (and I'm not half way through yet).

I did though, make some sketches towards a Magnificat. No, I had no plans to write one, but hearing a sequence of such magnificent settings at Edington, gave me ideas.

So now I'm at home. Not writing songs, not putting the finishing touches to my setting of Isaiah 6 and not continuing with my new orchestral tone poem (which is rather languishing). I've started writing a Magnificat.

Ho hum, I'm sure there's a reason for all this skipping about that my unconscious does.