What an amazing, beautiful soul.. what an amazing beautiful soul
(blessed, and the beautiful gift he shared with us..)
Bless you, Toots, forever
I know they were not “young” (in physical terms) but..
(all I can say is *F___
– the year is already costing …
, or perhaps it’s but the burden of time, i know not..)
As I calmly realized the year (in what much of the planet, in it’s elliptic voyage around our star, consideres an end and a beginning)
changed its numeric name,
I came upon the news of one master of masters leaving this realm, and thought – no.
no, i shall not begin the year in my blog with an absence; and no,
i shall not be adding to the shower of posts regarding his leaving (which i obviously find just, natural, and “correct” (if you will) but always seem to, more often as time passes –
(“as time passes”, now there’s a concept that leaves me evermore bewildered..) leave me at want for more of it while they live (at least on my part)
– but such is a burden of one who forgets they are of skin and bone, and like us – mortal..
One leaves it for yet another rainy day because the sky is dark, the dog is barking, the dishes are piling, the belly is hurting, the baby is crying, the ice is melting..
( oh F___.).
Thoughts within thoughts, within thoughts, like a Russian matryoshka doll.. as one sets forth to write and not be able to turn time enough, just enough to say “hello – i’m here. i see you. you make me smile..”
- and now………….. and now,
within a hiccup of time, Boulez……..
(write, you silly creature. – who me?
– no, the Easter Bunny.
– but what can I say now?
– you waited, your problem. / get on with it.
– but it’s the first thing i write – in the year
– when one hopes for hope, and… (ok – i see it.., i think).
– what do you mean first thing > in the year? ummmm, how many circles – one? two? two and a half? three-quarters? (of who’s math?)
– ok – stop being a wiseguy..
– wiseguy? ..but i’m a girl
– ugh, it’s a figure of speech, you ninny. one more wisecrack like that and i’ll put you into detention, nose to the wall, dunce-cap on..)
I’m so sorry, Paul, and Pierre, you deserve so much more..
from someone who has revelled in your work, and your work upon – and within – others i revel in and cherish so much (who, as you, also worked upon me)
What can I say, indeed?
My heart goes out to your (pertaining to the both of you)
loved ones, as it does to all of us whom you have touched..
- (the first publication i saw regarding the sad news of P. Bley – Ottawa Citizen – site – article Jan. 5)
- (regarding P. Boulez – i received by phone, today)
Please excuse me as I go somewhere (to a piece) that is neither of their’s but, nevertheless, takes me to both and to a part of me…
(also – I haven’t forgotten that one of them performed in the unit’s first recording, prior to this)
(on this day – I needed to hear this.. to re-hear it, I mean)
Yes, it would not seem right to not place a few things – out a large body of work by, or about, either.
(it’s always so very difficult to choose, when there is so much to choose from – and it saddens me to write this post about either)
- – and now I leave blessings, many blessings to whomsoever reads this, for the year that is new (and despite the heavy tone of this post).
Há sempre quem de forma notável e especial nos toca, faz vibrar a alma..
afinidades que ultrapassam aquilo que é o explicável ou o tangível .
Sempre foi o que senti em relação a Sam Rivers.
Não, não é devido ao seu enorme talento musical ou o timbre que sempre me deliciou,
nem das vezes que ouvi o som da pueza sábia das crianças e respectiva alegria na sua voz.
É mais profundo que isso.
Custa mas o que me resta dizer é que agradeço……………………
Agradeço o que nos deu e …………………….
There are artists that touch us in such a profound manner.
This has always been the case with me since first I first heard his “recorded” musical presence in the mythical recording “Conference of the Birds” ages ago.
The times I was fortunate enough to bear witness to his poetic sound “LIVE” and to be in his presence are engraved in my mind.
Moments that nothing nor no man can take from me..
Thank you lord for Sam Rivers.
(September 25, 1923 – December 26, 2011)
To my small Hearth His fire came
(by Emily Dickinson)
To my small Hearth His fire came—
And all my House aglow
Did fan and rock, with sudden light—
‘Twas Sunrise—’twas the Sky—
Impanelled from no Summer brief—
With limit of Decay—
‘Twas Noon—without the News of Night—
Nay, Nature, it was Day—
The mighy Sonny Rollins turns 81 today: Happy Birthday Mr. Rollins
(Hoje faz 81 anos Sonny Rollins)