Derivative

This past weekend, we went to a great NY Philharmonic concert that included Bruckner's sixth symphony*. Not to be all "get off my lawn," but what is with people leaving a concert in the middle of a piece? Yes, it's a long piece. Yes, it's not the most accessible symphony in the world. No, it's not acceptable to gather your things and shuffle out when you get bored. Kids these days**.

Studying all day and, at the end of the day, feeling like you haven't studied hard enough. It sucks, if you'll pardon my French. It's also creativity-sapping. If anyone wants to pop by my apartment with a roll of white butcher paper and some finger paints***, you'd make Graham Wallas dance in his grave, but in the meantime, I'll be following New York Times recipes verbatim.

Well, almost verbatim. I added lemon juice and premade veggie sausages. And it was delicious.

 

Our forks were dirty. I eat more slowly with chopsticks, anyway.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to coloring between the lines.

*This piece happens to be one of my iPod standards, but it will never again be on a jogging playlist after an unfortunate realization that it's stumble-inducing.
**And by kids, I actually mean the 50-and-over set.
***Or one of these!