He drooled when he played piano. He would get so wrapped up in playing that his mouth would hang open. He knew this happened and made no effort to stop it. He was self-consciously proud of it, thinking it was a kind of utter sublimation into the music, a sign of musical genius.

He wasn’t a genius, and he wasn’t very good. At age fourteen, he be in this state while practicing Faber’s piano book level 3b.