Windmills

It's a sobering thought (say I, here in the pub), that no one has any obligation whatsoever to Oak Floors! except yours truly.
No one wants the piece. Yet.
No one has heard much of it. Except my sisters, and the Artesian fundraiser audience last May 1 (whom I didn't tell that three pieces I recited were in fact songs from a thing called Oak Floors!). And maybe a neighbour. (Speaking of which, one way ti plan to address this matter of no audience is to do a Frontenac block party in the Amenities room. Because, let's face it, without the Frontenac there would be no Oak Floors!)
No one expects to ever see or hear it. Except Sask Arts Board, bless their hearts, who gave me a grant to write this first draft, now completed.
No one's bank roll is at stake. Yet.
No one has any reason to believe that my musical will ever see/hear the light/sound of day.
Given all that, I take heart from a facebook thing about the composer, John Rutter, the part that goes (I paraphrase): Never mind anyone else. It is your belief that will drive the process. He added: Make sure you get the work out there. And listen to how they do it--cue my list of ways to work on the music.
Wouldn't you know it, that very night I have a conversation with my daughter about the phrase "tilting at windmills." The gist of my commentary was that I seem to identify with the Don in Cervantes' novel.