Thursday, November 12th
Claude Debussy (1862-1918), Preludes, Book 1, Nos. 1-7, 9-11; Sviatoslav Richter (1915-1997), piano, live
I am not a complete idiot, but whether from weakness or laziness have no talent for thinking. I know only how to reflect: I am a mirror . . . Logic does not exist for me. I float on the waves of art and life and never really know how to distinguish what belongs to the one or the other or what is common to both. Life unfolds for me like a theatre presenting a sequence of somewhat unreal sentiments; while the things of art are real to me and go straight to my heart.