Chris rips up her crumpled staff paper and bangs on the piano for a few seconds. “ !” she shouts under it. “Why do I have to compose and notate and arrange everything to write music? Why can’t I just draw what I feel, and have the stupid flautists play that?”
“You can’t,” points out Katrin, “actually draw.”
“Exactly! I can compose well, if I try, but my drawing would be shit regardless!”
Katrin shrugs. “Constrained creativity produces stronger results.”
“This from you? You’re an extemporaneous free-verse spoken word poet!”
“Yeah,” sighs Katrin, “but what I really want to do is direct.”