good things
Mar. 25th, 2012 12:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnozomiGotta have 'em sometime.
1) My mom. Enough said.
2) I succumbed to the Dark Side and wrote fanfiction. Almost the first one I've ever written, definitely the first I've ever put on the internet for other people to read. (For a fanfic fest, so there were some built-in readers.) And people liked it. Not everybody, I'm sure, but several people wrote sweet appreciative comments. I think I will end up writing more, because it's so damn easy and fun compared to the original stuff. Makes me feel as if I'm cheating on my Y and his world, but--call it finger exercises.
3) The Monday night band at the Village Vanguard. Sixteen people creating a basement full of pure powerful focused delight. You know the first line of the Ode to Joy--Freude, schöne Gotterfunken? A guy I know once memorably mistranslated it into Japanese as something like "Fun and beautiful and holy explosion!" and that's pretty much what happens with Dick Oatts--who apart from being a hell of a sax player has the sweetest smile I've ever seen--and John Mosca and their colleagues. This time John Riley the saturnine drummer was off, sadly, but the pianist was a gifted young guy with a lion's-mane of hair, the bassist a young Chinese-American guy with that placid, happy, just-walkin'-the-line expression good jazz bassists tend to have, and they did LOTS of Thad Jones. Love it.
4) While at my mom's place, I collected a bunch of her cassette tapes to rerecord onto CD; among them was one of my dad playing jazz piano that I haven't heard in years and years, if ever, though I have other recordings of his. Having lost my dad is not a good thing, but being able to hear his "voice" on the piano--and occasionally, his literal voice on the recording, it was a pretty casual gig--makes me pretty damn lucky among people whose fathers are gone.
1) My mom. Enough said.
2) I succumbed to the Dark Side and wrote fanfiction. Almost the first one I've ever written, definitely the first I've ever put on the internet for other people to read. (For a fanfic fest, so there were some built-in readers.) And people liked it. Not everybody, I'm sure, but several people wrote sweet appreciative comments. I think I will end up writing more, because it's so damn easy and fun compared to the original stuff. Makes me feel as if I'm cheating on my Y and his world, but--call it finger exercises.
3) The Monday night band at the Village Vanguard. Sixteen people creating a basement full of pure powerful focused delight. You know the first line of the Ode to Joy--Freude, schöne Gotterfunken? A guy I know once memorably mistranslated it into Japanese as something like "Fun and beautiful and holy explosion!" and that's pretty much what happens with Dick Oatts--who apart from being a hell of a sax player has the sweetest smile I've ever seen--and John Mosca and their colleagues. This time John Riley the saturnine drummer was off, sadly, but the pianist was a gifted young guy with a lion's-mane of hair, the bassist a young Chinese-American guy with that placid, happy, just-walkin'-the-line expression good jazz bassists tend to have, and they did LOTS of Thad Jones. Love it.
4) While at my mom's place, I collected a bunch of her cassette tapes to rerecord onto CD; among them was one of my dad playing jazz piano that I haven't heard in years and years, if ever, though I have other recordings of his. Having lost my dad is not a good thing, but being able to hear his "voice" on the piano--and occasionally, his literal voice on the recording, it was a pretty casual gig--makes me pretty damn lucky among people whose fathers are gone.
