June 29, 2017

Party at the Jefferson to celebrate F’s departure to Brooklyn. Saw the people from the Apothecary. All have recovered, though one was either in a bad mood or has turned into a bitch. There was meant to be music, but my bodies-per-square-foot ratio of toleration had been well exceeded when I snuck out the door. Handsome Alec-- a prodigally gifted musician, I think-- and I agreed that you can get what you need from any institution, even one not ideally suited to you. This was relative to his being an advanced composer and our school not very advanced in the fostering of composition. Anyway, all seemed calm and happy. A visiting dog and the resident cat sniffed each other and decided to be at peace.  Chestnut Street is surprisingly shady and Andy Hardy, if you’re walking on it. Finished “Corin and Dorinda.”