The bowl continues to dry and crack.

I opened up a new Finale file today and just played with B section phrases, making up stuff, discarding stuff. I seem to be congenitally unable to avoid the lyrical. Sure, I need a contrast for the B section from that astringent little waltz, but it sounds like a Prokofiev ballet piece.

So be it. I’ll push it to its limit and turn it violent as soon as is possible. Look for slashing strings and unison screaming before settling on an unsettled chord stabbing its way into a fff crescendo, only to collapse into the recapitulation. Bones hounded by lust.