Jazz
I witnessed something I haven't seen in a really long time. Maybe never. I witnessed a breathtaking performance of (very) young musicians playing 45 minutes of jazz at the Chemanius Jazz Fest last weekend. The Kenton Dick Quartet.
You don't know what breathtaking really means until you find yourself holding your breath until the very last note then letting it out in a gush. Their performance wasn't only mind blowing to watch - I mean, the ease by which these young musicians played their music - much of it original compositions - was spectacular; but it also inspired me to write this poem-ish piece:
Jazz is about tension.
The litany of disconnected, discordant notes,
Beats and grooves,
Skipping errantly and recklessly along;
Like a runaway train,
Careening around the bend,
Daring to launch itself off the rails.
All seemingly impossible and unresolvable.
And then;
Suddenly,
Exquisitely,
It intersects with itself and the story is told.
And the breath you've been holding?
Releases into a wondrous sigh.
As I sat there and was swept away in the music, inspired to write that little missive, I couldn't help but relate every word of it to my life. Every. Single. Word.
So - I feel this little poem should be what introduces a piece of work that I've been labouring over for the past 3 years. It began as the story of me meeting my dad after 51 years. It is such a great story and people were amazed by it when I told it. It brought me joy to tell it. So I wrote it down. And in the course of writing it down it turned into a story of my own self-discovery - and revealed what a stunning life of grace I've lived.
So - with unbelievable excitement mixed with terror - I am debuting my new blog/book - A Crimson Cord. It's my heart on a plate and I am terrified for people to read it. But I also know I've been charged to tell my story. We all have a story and I just happened to write mine down. Did I mention I'm terrified for people to read it? Yeah - and just like jazz music, it won't appeal to everyone. But to that one person who connects with it - finds themselves in it - here it is. A Crimson Cord.
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