This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly, than ever before. — Leonard Berstein

Banksy hates Mondays. So does Garfield, the cartoon cat. For me, Mondays are not so loathsome.  This one is certainly not.

One of the soul’s great tragedies is to execute a work and then realize, once it’s finished, that it’s not any good. The tragedy is especially great when one realizes that the work’s execution is the best one could have done.

Today I suddenly returned to whom I am or dream I am. It was during a moment of great fatigue, after concerts and travels. I propped my elbows on the desk, rested my head against my hands, closed my eyes, and rediscovered myself.

“Wie ich dich liebe, Du meine Sonne, ich kann mit Worten Dir’s nicht sagen. Nur meine Sehnsucht kann ich Dir klagen und meine Liebe”.

Mahler’s own text to the Adagietto in his 5th symphony. What came first, music or lyrics?
Poor guy, wasn’t easy to win the heart of the cynical Alma, but I suspect it was a creative force in his crazy mind, resulting in a bunch of lovely symphonies. Thank you for the music, Gustav!