Jazz music and a snowy New York day are a perfect pair

The soundtrack to my day, on this wintry expression in December, was John Coltrane's "Living Space." The snow fell with a certain zeal and pretentiousness that surprised me. I had things to do today. I wanted to start moving out my apartment, and being my stuff to the storage unit I rented. I wasn't going to happen. I was mad at first, but it turns out, today was a good day.

On the bus, I murmured lines of poetic hopefuls. I thought up "Woman, Am I," centered around my femininity that is ever-in-flux and always in question; I pondered about my blackness and how it is not rooted in the South or West Indies, but just blackness, which most can't wrap their minds around; and I dreamed of freedom from the obligation of the norm pushed upon me as burdensome load that is carried daily. It was jazz--without words sung, that helped me create the words of my thoughts. It is true--I love music, sounds, all other pleasant vibrations of the ear. Creativity-- picture, painting, writing, expressions of the human mind. It took a cold New York afternoon for me to feel the warmth of creativity and the result of thereof. Even so, I saw Will Smith new movie, "Seven Pounds", and it was moving to say this least, with artistic shots, dramatic plot structure, and excellent casting and acting. Creativity, bien.

I am writing this, as John Coltrane's fills my ears, this time his "Afro Blue Impressions," and I feel that next to nothing could make this day better.


Peace before all,
Ashley