The new piece. Shortest day. It had been going so well that I decided to put it on my set list for the gig on Sunday.
Except, browsing the book store in the interval break, I realized I couldn't remember the middle section. I refused the rum punch, opting instead to keep a clear head and hoped the melody would strike me again.
A sketch, a work that was obviously still in progress, so new, still fluid. It lay on the kitchen table humming to itself while I ummed and ahhed about the best thing to do.
So, given it was very nearly the shortest day and given that no-one in the world knew how this piece went, I went for it and introduced it, saying it was brand new, that I had forgotten part of it, but was going to let it emerge as semi-improvised. And ......
It became a piece of those moments, played to that attentive audience in a little theatre, became a new version of itself, better than before, still in progress, still fluid.
And I came home to the sketch and crossed out the middle section that doesn't need to be there.