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"...and perhaps if borrowing is not natural there is 
some use in giving" (Gertrude Stein). I cannot describe
this scene, for instance. To give it words makes
it small, perhaps even sordid. And I am afraid 
the memory will not survive the reasonable light 
of sentencing . . .

Re member: He plays the sad bits well. Persisting through 
mistaken notes and incorrect timing. Each pause 
in the wrong place makes me hold my breath, wanting 
him to go on, afraid that he will stop, afraid he 
will continue.

How do musicians turn their music into notation? 
(this could be the wrong question), at . what . point .