Cosmic...

It's funny. Something has shifted over here. Still feeling a bit detached, and still have a bit of a chip on my shoulder. Experiencing moments of the day, not exactly judging them. What is, is what is. Back home briefly, and then off to another assignment at another location tomorrow. Maybe this moving around, this migratory existence, living in other places, has opened a new vista in my consciousness?

It is all a subtle, delicate thing. Living. We had a fabulous rehearsal with a couple members of our band yesterday. Just two voices, a guitar, a violin and a percussionist equipped with conga, doumbek, and cajon. So thrilling and validating. We live for that kind of session, that kind of collaboration and communication.

Exquisite and life-affirming.

The news of the day sort of flies by. I latch onto nothing. Let it fly. Happy. Healthy. Wondering what's next.  Lately on the CD player lots of Alice Coltrane & The Flying Burrito Brothers. I love that dichotomy. Hard to categorize. You know, not exactly JAZZ, not exactly COUNTRY.  As Gram Parsons so eloquently dubbed it "Cosmic American Music."

Yes. Indeed. Cosmic.