i waited. not even a whisper, not even a glance.
all i ever wanted was for you to come talk to me.
“Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom. If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn. They teach you there’s a boundary line to music. But, man, there’s no boundary line to art.”
She keeps looking at me with those eyes. I just…can’t get those eyes out of my mind.
I would lay awake for hours listening to his dreams. He had this plan and every time he spoke I felt as if he were inviting me into his magical journey. His visions transcended onto my body.
It’s taken me two years to listen to Radiohead again and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready.
There is possibly no more tragic figure in jazz than Charlier Parker, and none more important. His playing helped redefine what jazz is — redefined it by itself — yet he died before that impact could be fully felt. Happy birthday, Bird. And, wherever you are, I hope you’re smiling.
Lady, i will touch you with my mind.
Touch you and touch and touch
until you give
me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene
(lady i will
touch you with my mind.)Touch
you,that is all,
lightly and you utterly will become
with infinite ease
the poem which i do not write.
How countlessly they congregate
O’er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!—
As if with keeness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,—
And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva’s snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
"The mystery of music was the calling card of that pop age. Comic books were equally esoteric, alluding to back issues that would take months to procure, or that simply couldn’t be procured at all. Favorite cartoons would come and go — mid-continuity, plotlines dangling — without explanation. The star receiver of your favorite football team would vanish, leaving you in wonder, until years later when an announcer’s off-hand mention of a tragic car crash brought you up to speed. But the distance between what you knew and what you didn’t was magic, was a shared realm of legitimate fact and fan fictions. It demanded interpretation, completion, creation."
“Instant Music Gratification” by Ta-Nehisi Coates, The New York Times, July 9, 2011 (via hyuninc)
If I could play you a song. I would play you my heart let it beat loud, let it love loud