Calling Names and in Some Instances, Not

This is a musical day.  I don’t mean that magical things are happening and I’m whizzing through my day with lilting music in my head.  I mean that I have chosen to make music a theme of the day.  There were things I hadn’t heard in a long time that were calling to me.  You see, my real music, the soundtrack in my head, is jazz.  I listen to everything else at some time or another, but nothing is really in my head the way jazz is.  In some life that I live on the inside, I am an instrument.  Music flows through me, and I can feel the highs and lows and thrills and staccatos in a very personal way, as a part of me.  I say “Calling Names” because when I speak about music, I can use real names.  The ones I’m most intimately familiar with must remain nameless.


Listening to me discuss music, you probably doubt that I had any musical training, that I’ve studied music history, theory, composition, because my descriptions have to be personal, not technical.  However, I began piano lessons at age 5, and progressed into a seriousness with classical piano that persisted long after I had to stop formal lessons as a college sophomore.  I still have spells of needing to approach my piano and spend time at the keyboard.  More frequently, I have listening urgencies. 


Today I pulled out the Jazz Crusaders first, then Michael Franks.  I’ve known the Crusaders since my college time of listening to the Scratch album with my head between the speakers.  (No, I don’t recommend that; Baby Boomers should be “Boomers” by virtue of their attachment to the loudest music.)  I know every word of Wayne Henderson’s introduction to the band (the six members in 1974, when they recorded Scratch live at the Roxy were Wayne Henderson, Stix Hooper, Joe Sample, Max Bennett, Wilton Felder and Larry Carlton), and when he says “we go way back, and we’ve come way forward”, it starts the tears flowing.  Then the sweet opening phrases of Way Back Home begin, and I’m thoroughly there. 


Michael Franks has the smoothest, most unassuming voice I’ve ever heard.  He sometimes sings the silliest lyrics (remember Popsicle Toes?) in a way that is beyond relaxing.  His voice says “it’s okay, I’m your buddy and I’ve got it under control” and how can you turn that down?  Especially when he sings about love, he makes you go to that place where you see that someone’s most common-place characteristics can be the object of powerful attraction.  Fifteen years ago a friend put some of his cuts on a cassette (!) of traveling music for me, and I have worn it out.  Today when I take my host son back to school, I’m going to make him listen to my newly burned CD, which should last me another ten or fifty years.   


A few days ago, when I was seriously thinking about love (don’t ask), I got out Jill Scott’s first album, My Name is Jill Scott.  Don’t look this up unless you can handle her sassy, brash-no, downright brazen approach to love.  She is a poet and her lyrics take you where you can hardly stand it-into the most gut-tumbling, brain-shaking situations where you can feel every stroke and pitch of the match.  She gets the head and heart parts, but she is light-years ahead of most songwriter/poets in putting the physical into words that you can say aloud.  If this woman ever writes an autobiography, I will be in line to read it. 


Lest you think I’ve been languishing, here are photos of the blocked snood.  The bottom edge is the ribbing that will frame the face.  The top and sides will be sewn together to shape the hairnet-type construction.

I’m blocking it on a stack of towels on the kitchen table.  My table is rarely free for eating.

Here’s a closer view: 




3 Responses

  1. that’s a lovely color…

  2. I love hearing about the music in your head. Keep playing!

    The snood is gorgeous. Is it for you? or for sale? Will you post a photo of you, or someone, wearing it?

  3. There is room on my table for eating, if the plate is small. I don’t have projects on it, but lots and lots and lots of paper.
    My husband has the Jill Scott album. It’s one of the many albums he listens to while I’m somewhere else. (smile) It’s a bit “sassy” for me, but I haven’t been in a sassy mood for a while. I’ve had my own “head between the speakers” days, too. Just not lately.
    Looking forward to the finished snood. (Where does that word come from?)

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