Sunday, September 30, 2007

In real time

A sink full of dishes now clean and on shelves, reflections of the day step through me with as much ease as that moon hanging in the sky.

Sitting at the sidebar

There are certainly more than 6 different ways inside my heart, but there's only one Cure.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Nightmare Night

Last night I dreamed I was on a train filled with people who were endlessly chatting, not one of them noticing the train was going much too fast. I dreamed I was taking care of a baby who was crawling toward a busy New York street, and no matter how I tried to call for help, my voice wouldn't come. I dreamed I was driving my car and my passenger was a handsome photographer I know. He didn't say it, but I could see that my driving made him uncomfortable. When I suggested he get behind the wheel, he agreed, but he jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop. I dreamed I had a date with Robin Williams and he kept trying to tell me something, but because his lips moved so quickly, I couldn't understand him. He repeatedly tried to convey his message, but all I could do was laugh.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Good life

When the pretty 21-year-old girls at my salon say they are living vicariously thorough me, I know I must be doing something right.

Sitting at the sidebar

Strawberry Gloss, (for Tai) by Jill Souble.

Happy Birthday Tai!

At press time, it's Tai Moses' birthday in New York, and in just under 2 hours it will also be her birthday in California.

I met Tai when I was 11 and she was 13, and I'd like to dedicate today's sidebar selection to her.

Happy birthday Tai, with much love from the Half Note.

In real time

Home from hearing John McLaughlin, out with a handsome man who in no way resembles Michael Richards. It's a hot and sticky night, I'm out of a cold shower, the humidity will break and there'll be a run of fall weather, and it all starts at sunrise.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

If You See Her, Say Hello by Bob Dylan.

Picture this

A young Brooklyn family going for a Sunday outing in N.Y.C. 1966.

Photograph by Diane Arbus.

Wednesday

Outraged, Annie says: "There was a little girl at Norma's house today, and the girl's mother actually gave her a bible called The Children's Bible!"

Me: "What's wrong with that?"

Annie: "Mom! What kind of parent gives their kid a bible?"

Sitting at the sidebar

Stardust by Clifford Brown.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Monday, September 24, 2007

Commitment

Two years ago and long before then, I lived a life of quiet desperation. I clipped my own wings, silenced my own voice, and held tightly to an abundance of love that to this day has yet to find its home.

I will not ever, for any reason or for anyone, swallow or hold or suppress that love again, even if it means spending the rest of my life alone.

Sitting at the sidebar

Love is Just a Dream by Johnny Clegg & Juluka

Freedom

... Letting someone "off the hook" on a promise or commitment made to you may look like it will hurt you in the short run, but it will never damage you in the long run, because when you give the other person their freedom, you give yourself freedom as well. And so now you are free of the agonies and sorrows, the attacks on your dignity and your self-worth that inevitably follow when you force another person to keep a promise to you that he or she does not want to keep. The longer damage will far outweigh the shorter-- as nearly everyone who has tried to hold another person to their word has discovered.

~From "Conversations With God."

Me & my Pop

Here I am at 14 with my pop. (I always carried a comb back then, and there it is in my mouth).

Sitting at the sidebar

Rock Me to Sleep by Jill Sobule

Fun & funerals just don't mix

Or do they?

No blues

Annie: "Mom, would you put on some music?"

Katie: "What are you in the mood for?"

Annie: "Just some jazz, a little funky jazz. Not down, not blue jazz."

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Unsolicited advice from me

When you open to learning about someone else, take notice of how much you learn about yourself.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

A year ago, this piece of music by Zakir Hussain helped guide me safely, but not painlessly across a bridge. And on this quiet morning, it reminds me to be fearless, to never cross back over, and at all costs to keep the door to my heart wide open.

Friday, September 21, 2007

In real time

At my place, Annie and Giselle do homework, eat fruit and cookies and listen to Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

Good bad theatre

David's one-act play, The Greatest in the Whole Wide World, will be part of The Bad Plays Festival, "Best in Fest" this Sunday, September 23rd at The Players Theatre, 115 MacDougal Street.

For tickets, call (212) 242-6036

Safe landing

Anticipation is fun and nothing beats a good high, but the only time having my head in the clouds feels really good, is when both my feet are on the ground. ~kb.

Sitting at the sidebar

I thought no one noticed, I thought I was off the hook, but leave it to my friend Gary Regina to remind me that I failed to post the passing of the great Joe Zawinul of Weather Report.

Click the music player and listen to Zawinul's A Remark You Made.

On an apple box

New York City, Thursday September 20.

Photo by Rob Penner.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

The look of love

Only when I can see it, taste it, will I even know what it is, and only then will I know whether or not I want it.

Sitting at the sidebar

Some Other Time by Bill Evans.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

In real time

A day off, morning coffee, Clifford Brown and Harold Land play The Blues Walk, and there's a huge smile on my face.

Sitting at the sidebar

I'm here

I miss the Half Note, but you know me, it's all about the tides and the seasons. Right now it's a quiet end to summer, but things may get a little more exciting come fall.

Stay tuned.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Little miss sunshine

Looking less than sunny outside one of our favorite eateries, Sunshine Jamaican Kitchen in Harlem.

From the "A" train

The old Russian man ran past me and shouted, "Hurry up, life started yesterday!"
Do you really think that if you force another to keep a promise that you will have escaped injury? I tell you this: More damage has been done to others by persons leading lives of quiet desperation, that is, doing what they felt they "had" to do, than ever was done by persons freely doing what they wanted to do. When you give a person freedom, you remove danger, you don't increase it.

~From "Conversations With God."

Sitting at the sidebar

Billy Bragg, The Only One.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

I Remember Clifford, by Lee Morgan.

So pretty.

Click on the music player at the sidebar to listen.

I will...

... blog this weekend. It's just this crazy and amazing life of mine that keeps getting in the way!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

In real time

Editing music, waiting on a sweet, attractive and artistic man who takes pretty pictures.

I'm here...

... but things look pretty different.

(42nd Street and Madison Avenue, New York City.)

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Gift

The Universe is working, and this morning I surrender to its protection and care, and its ability to surprise me everyday.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

This is something I posted last summer, and here it is again, along with a piece from the album.

When I was 21, I spent the winter in Vermont with my Uncle Walter. He was my mother's step-brother and an accomplished jazz musician, songwriter and composer. He had a beautiful house in the mountains, and while he spent his days skiing, I spent mine in his beloved music room. There were shelves from floor to ceiling, custom built to hold LPs, thousands of them, including some of the greatest music ever recorded. Colorful Indian rugs adorned the wooden floors, and a warm tapestry hung over the wood-burning fireplace. There was a big leather chair in the middle of the room, and the wall-sized window exposed a view of endless acres of land and trees, covered by impossibly white and untouched snow. I spent days in that big chair, listening to music in front of the fire, looking out that window, watching deer and sunlight and hours pass. And sometimes I'd fall asleep, always hearing the music in my dreams. I played the jazz greats and stuff I’d never heard, and it was in this room that I discovered Pat Metheny’s New Chautauqua. It became the album that defined my experience there, and as I listen to it now in my apartment in the stifling city heat, I am brought back to Vermont, to the impossibly white snow, to a time when my uncle was alive, and to the room he so generously offered me, day after day of the most beautiful and musical winter of my life.

Secret...

Work is not the only thing that's kept me away from the Half Note these days.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Secret...

There's a story that surrounds this picture, but I'll wait to see how it unfolds before telling.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

Once in a while I get this question: If you were stranded on an island with only five albums, which five would they be?

Without a doubt, one of them would be Midnight Blue by Kenny Burrell.

To listen to Burrell's Chittlins Con Carne with Stanley Turrentine on sax, please click the music player just to the right.

Now get me to that island!

Thursday, September 06, 2007

New Terrain

Tonight, out of the blue, I was inspired to write lyrics for a song. I have a first draft, and you know what? I think it's kinda good.

In real time

In heaven, listening to one of my favorite albums of all time. Will post a piece of it in just a bit.

Let it shine

We women are forever comparing ourselves (superficially), to other women, and I have only recently come to a deep understanding of this: What is far more attractive than a perfect body or a youthful face, is how a woman expresses her femininity--it's all about how she radiates.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Sitting at the sidebar

Thankful that I'm always brave enough to hold its hand.

A favorite, by Bill Evans