Thank you so much, Goddess Roberta Flack.
Thank you for Chapter Two. This exact part of the song sunk every single sad feeling I knew nothing about yet did as a little girl. I never gave this record back to my mother. Then I learned of your brilliance! Prodigy. Fearless One. Your magnificent voice! Your exceptional musicality!
Your Excellence. Your Beauty. Your Blackness.Thank you, thank you, thank you. How blessed we are that you are ours!
May you be received royally by the Ancestors.
chewed middle finger
anxiety masked as kink
head out the window
Ooh what they said about Ornette! Some folk are self imposed closed; they can't hear. Improvised music gets the worst rap; I know cats that graduated from all the schools you deem acceptable, play every instrument, dance, paint, sing. Intellectual. Political. Sensitive. Positive. Negative. Recluses. Jerks. Humanitarians. Vixens. Have OCD. Best schools. Worse schools. Plenty money. No money. Good folk and the shady. Holding down family. Creating family. STILL WE MUST PLAY. Improvised music is that jolt. You can't do it if you don't speak several musical languages. You have to have an ear, a story, an arsenal from which to draw. Someone starts a musical conversation and everyone shares in. You have to listen. Like double dutch .The story starter gives you the map and we each give our take on it. Then someone switches the course, everybody has to switch, too. Sometimes the noise is silence or breath. Sometimes it's holding space. It's communal. It takes bravery to play this type of music. Most of us can do what you do but could you do what we do? It's not for everyone. I mean, who's open to getting that free? Like there's only one way to be? Who's rule is that? All sounds and vibrations matter. It ain't easy but it's breathtaking!
I strive for a heart centered, intuitively led life. I spend so much time listening, I can tell which birds visit in the morning (eventhough they cut down the tree outside my window: & yes- I yelled, questioned, cried). Spirit said they'll be other birds, other trees to comfort my journey.
When I converse with others, the words ripple run pour stretch beyond my limitations to communicate what I truly feel. It's just easier on my spirit to listen and move.
The work is changing my ears. The work is training my ears. I listen between words. I listen between gestures. I listen to hold space. I listen to know when to hold space for myself. I'm grateful for this gift that has been fine tuned from trauma, grief, joy, love. I'm grateful for this walk, this life.
