The title refers to Sondheim song that resonates with me when I'm feeling low.
Every day a little death
In the parlor, in the bed
In the curtains, in the silver
In the buttons, in the bread
Every day a little sting
In the heart and in the head
Every move and every breath
And you hardly feel a thing
Brings a perfect little death
(In it's original incarnation it is two women singing about how relationships die gradually over time. This is not one of my favorite renditions of the song but it was available on YouTube.)
I remember when I first heard this song, I had the Original British Cast Album of 'A Little Night Music' and I played this track over and over - I was a melodramatic 20 something (yes I know, I'm still melodramatic GRIN). Well whenever something happens that causes a little hope in me to die this song seems to float into the back of my mind.
Back in November I wrote about a Christmas Anthem that the choir here loved that everyone was telling me I should send off to the Publishers......read about that here
Well today I got a rejection letter:
Dear Mr. Johns:
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to review your choral arrangement Come See The Mystery. At our recent editorial session our editors had the privilege of review your manuscripts and although they are well done it appears that we won't be able to include them in our future publishing program.
We are sorry we could not be more encouraging. If you would like your manuscripts returned please supply me with your complete address.
Oh well - this is Holy Week, every little death brings me closer to a little Resurrection.