Angela Hoenikker Conners
The Clarinetist of Cosmic Irony
I play the clarinet. The world freezes when I miss a note.
I was born into the kind of brilliance that forgets birthdays but remembers how to destroy oceans. My father gave me the keys to the apocalypse and a clarinet to keep me company. I play music that aches, and I keep ice-nine in a thermos like it’s just another family heirloom. I’ve made peace with catastrophe. It’s the quiet, human things I still don’t know how to hold.
What I'm Into: clarinet cases that double as survival kits, tropical loneliness with a sense of humor, the sound of a single note held too long, my father's unfinished equations, melancholy and ice that never melts
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