The Sunny Day
Kenny Dorham on the stereo.. that is essential
Sitting by an open window. It lets in
The sun in varying amounts… spilling onto the floor and across everything it can reach. Sometimes landing on skin and warming. Caressing the soul.. its perfect.
The air, the freshness that comes on lovely day. The breeze will push against the warmed surfaces, cooling in waves. Like a sea spray it comes in waves.. always welcome.
The breeze brings in the sounds of a sunny day. Those particular noises. Dusty streets being pushed by dry car wheels. Children in ecstasy under the yellow giant. What is that warmth? The lawnmowers.. the buggies and prams rattling against the concrete.. kids pushing sticks into soft tar. Remember that summer?
All the while the sounds filter through a stream of jazz.. music pushing against the buzzing thick heat. Turn it up loud. Think of these times while you live them. Turn it up loud. Music sounds different in heat. Another breeze, close your eyes and feel your life get stirred by the concoction.
A summer cocktail. Sensory bliss. Curled toes in drenched comfort. Cold green blades hug every digit. Nature crawls on top. Unknowing. Curious.. searching. Get it while its hot. Hot Jazz.
There is a deep heat in that brass sound. Especially the afro-cuban kind. Waves of sweating sound… combusts in explosions of rabid musical joy.
Get it while it’s hot.
Sirens on the road. Birds chirp. Forget the weekday worries. This is Sunday. This is the End of those work days. Put it aside. Make plans. Step into a different mentality and take advantage of your time. YOUR time. Your goals and aspirations.
All wrapped up in a day.
The keys hang from their hole. Door ajar, slid aside to allow the world in and the music out. Trumpet lines creak from a 70s studio to a 10s Dublin apartment complex… Time travel.
All of this loving gun, working hard and playing the little trumpets and banging the great big drums of heaven and earth this most beautiful thing that we love this most beautiful rhythm the lose sounds of life, the heavy drumming of a thousand and one green hearts and souls , hundred billion yellow taxi cabs in zoo panoramic scenes, beeping horns in the light rain as the souls of the past walk away from expensive circus performances with a genius in sand and a lightning hat shining BELIEF BELIEF on the heads of the others who had never dreamed or even conceived such possibilities, these things my dear are the works of great gods in capes screaming heaven down upon the earth in great big bags of lost sounds and perfect rhymes, this is what we all dream for lines of cabs running in time to the heavy need and turning 180 on a small road without a stop this is the need this is the want this is the everything… and who am i in all of this…… the guy with the two little black things singing in my ear…telling me stories from another brain…telling me that the city is moaning…that the sun is rising yellow out of a man hole on the corner of 53rd street… and we all know its true you just have to click on the right buttons and not lie about it because you want that attention you want that soul bearing click, those words from a real mouth that i am in your head just as they are in mine. we all want it… lets not beat around the burning bush… we all want it..
There is so much to be happy for and everything went wrong… that is why we deserve it most…