I’ve been asked whether I’ve ever dreamed any music that I’ve gone on to actually write. Yes, the opening theme of “Sonnet 18” came to me the night before the students arrived at GHP that summer. It was so insistent that I got up and scribbled down something to remind me of its contour the next morning.
Recently however I have been dreaming quite large orchestral pieces, and that’s frustrating, because I know I do not have the skills (nor the time) to capture them. Last night was a lovely work indeed; I was even able to manipulate it, extending the theme and developing it.
It’s gone now. I remember only a vague impression of its effect. Most frustrating.
I once dream a brilliant feature film beginning to end. When I got up the next morning and sat down to write, I could see it crumbling away right before me.
I couldn’t even begin to tell you what it was about now. I just remember waking up in love with the story. These fickle human brains.