…will run from this street, this Autumn Walk horseshoe Drive.  Head up San Miguel, left on Coffey, then back.  Short run, today.  Then more words, then jazz, the new couch, what’s the first thing I’ll write while on it sitting.  What thought will materialize and actualize from those new and unfamiliar seats, cushions.  When I first moved into this house, I saw it with a concerned and cornered eye.  Not sure how to write in the walls— a new house, thinking Do I write differently? And how do I interpret what’s around me.  Not sure where I’m going in this thought walk, but there I am, here I am, again… where I am and what I’m doing.  Running from one sentence to the next, encouraged by Coltrane, his track right now, the fact that I’m writing in this house, still, even past whatever thoughts I had on writing in the house and the spinning spell of that meta….  Present in this identity, seat, roll in thoughts and repeat.

“All Mornin’ Long”, which features Coltrane, is freeing and like an audible freewrite.  If you listen, you’ll sense the liberation and noted pleasure escalation within the music itself.  Coltrane, speaking then letting the other speak.  Not sure who’s on trumpet, but I miss the sax…