As i sit here writing this, it feels very picturesque. The sun is pouring in through the windows, the brilliant blues in the greens, a cardinal hopping about in search of food, and myself as i lift my eyes off the laptop, to take a moment and enjoy this moment, while Kind of Blue is on for the umpteenth time. It is a special moment when you can reflect on the atmosphere around you and take in creation, through all the sights, smells and sounds. So what, if i should be writing a school paper, a moment i will remember forever versus something i will likely forget, i choose the former. I try to find time to do this often, whether it be like this moment where glass stands between me and nature, or taking a stroll through the woods outback while i load my lungs with plenty of fresh air, as i sketch all the blues, and all the greens with my colored pencils in my journal.
There is a certain space that resides in between the notes on Kind of Blue, an appreciation for timbre and texture, taking care to make sure every note sounds the very best. Miles' horn is supple and generous, a lone bird entertaining itself on a low branch. Bill Evans and Wynton Kelly's piano is chordal and composed, squirrels scampering on the branches. Cannball Adderley, and John Coltrane's saxophones, tranquil and casual, the wind coursing through the trees. Lastly Paul Chamber's bass the tempo of my steps on the ground. I stop and look up, a kind of blue within the tangle and interlocking limbs of treetops. Music sometimes reveals the unseen, the things already there, but have not been noticed, even though they are right in front of your eyes. I would challenge you, to take a walk and let the sounds of nature become music.