Lady over by far window, in front of me and a bit to left, plays the guitar,

or at least tries to work on her finger placement and tablature, I think.  Music in everything, I always say and have said.  Me knowing it mandatory to write to Mr. Coltrane, in my ears now with a soft, slower track—poetic and containing, atmosphere-apt and just kind.  Coltrane’s work has consistency and beauty, then there’s no consistency or predictability in some track but the beauty is augmented.  Plan on incorporating him in my talk on the 9th, about Freedom, and Madness, the Beauty of being Mad, Free, of being your SELF.

“Everytime We Say Goodbye”, the current play.  Piano keys with brushes on snare, nonintrusive bass, John greets us again with notes that don’t overwhelm the other contributions.  His music is jazz but more, it’s life and love, freedom and this madness with which I am more or less obsessed with.

“Moment’s Notice”, next.  Now more wild characteristics and motions, more intensity and urgency, electricity and collection.  Sped and eager as the session is, there’s no loss of comfort or chord coherence.  I listen and type faster, feel more of my morning and any evidence of the run slowing me or having my being’s function turn to debility, vanishes.  Composed and in head skipping with each letter button pushed.

Lady works on her music and I mine, with my pieces and sheets, tracks and tells, a one-character jam session, here in this café I’ve never utilized for such.  Water nearly done, I pretend I’m on stage reciting in the moment with John and his partners, letting words fly and out and multiple become their own principles and exponents as they may and stray, deciding their own and my day.  Syncopating play, clef-sleigh, in any wild and wandering way.

9:47, should think about leaving soon.  I’ll continue this momentum and creative flight through day by using what’s right in front of me, the magic of the meta, where I am and what I’m doing, even if it’s swiping my badge to get into the building or notes for the day of canvassing ahead of us, the drive down, the music I plan on playing for self (good idea… will plan music), or whatever.  Today decides a direction new and revived, more liberated and sans-chains in Mike’s story, narrative and prose plain.