On Friday, I had a (solo) recording session that I feel good about. This is uncharacteristic of my recording history, but likely (I'm being optimistic) the direction I am moving. When I am finding (even if for brief periods) my "zone" (something I have been self-consciously working on for some time), even in the studio, I can't be but pleased. Of course, it could be better, but this is where I'm learning. I'm understanding now that my goal, as a performer, has been the sustained depth - or - to play at a consistent level. Of course, I know (even if I don't accept it) that this isn't me. I've often told people that I feel a certain kinship with Mike Schmidt (home run leader and gold glove third baseman for the Phillies in the 1980's). He could hit multiple home runs one day and then go 0 for 20, or could make a phenomenal fielding play one inning, then in the next field a routine ground ball, but fail to throw out the runner at first because he "threw" the ball behind his back (I saw this happen while at a ball game)! Not that I really feel that I hit (or play) multiple home runs, or make phenomenal fielding plays, but rather that I am prone to inconsistency. I understand some of the reason for it (and I also know that some of what I am aware of, others are less so), but I'd never accepted it. Listening to my session later, at home; hearing me find the depth, have a "brain fart", and then attempt a recovery, I finally got it : This is me, and it's okay (as a concept). I can continue to improve, and lessen the occurrence - which is happening - of the "perpetual fog" (my Friend Alan Dale calls it "being constipated"), which is a problem. When I am "fog-free", however, and still have that little spot or two in a tune where my attention span breaks, or I am playing disjointed (even if only I am aware of it),
I can stop being ashamed of myself; trying to create an ideal rather than accept what is. Dick Durham (local jazz pianist who has become a friend) uses a quote in his publicity written of him in the Phila. Inquirer in 1965(!): "Dick Durham creates a jazz that is". Now I understand: more than anything, my goal is to be authentic - something that is.

Though I have not really thought about it much before now, I kind of have a two part approach to my professional schedule. The weekends (in addition to my church work and concerts) tend to be the more "normal' (what does that mean?) jazz gigs, in contrast to the senior citizen entertainment and music therapy work throughout the week. Though all having the same essence, the three gigs this past weekend may have appeared to approach jazz from three different angles. Friday night was a jazz duo gig at Sullivan's with Steve Beskrone on bass. This approach, although stylistically themed (which, because of the jazz/swing theme of the restaurant makes me fit right in), is about the improvisation and the interaction between the (two) musicians. Saturday night's gig was a swing dance with Alan Dale's New Legacy Jazz Band. That was fun too. Playing for dancers (remember that, for a time in it's development, jazz was dance music) creates a different context, with (in contrast to the night before) different instrumentation, but the improvisation and interaction remain. Last night's gig was a jazz vespers worship service in Chestertown with Sue Matthews and the Joe Holt Trio (not unlike a small version of the New Legacy Jazz Band). Though all three gigs were strong, last night is where it all came together for me. I am reminded (over and again) that God is often at work in artistic communication (whatever the gig), and the still small voice may well carry a tune.

Today, in a nursing facility on the eastern shore of Maryland, I took advantage of the opportunity to spend a music (therapy) room visit with Mrs. S. She would not ordinarily be on my "list", as she is mobile, and attends other activities. We have, however, developed a strong rapport over the many months that I was assigned to visit her husband (they shared a room). I quickly discovered that hymns and spirituals were important and meaningful to Mr. And Mrs. S. Although Mr. S., to whom I was assigned, was minimally responsive, Mrs. S. would close her eyes, move in rhythm, and sing with deep meaning to her. When Mr. S. passed away last year, I no longer had the opportunity to see Mrs. S. in her room. She still came to the large group program, but it wasn't the same. Some months later, when Mrs. S. was recovering from a hospitalization, I was "assigned" that day to see her. Mrs. S. was so tickled to see me again, and experienced such joy in the music, that I requested she be placed back on my list. It has been a joy to visit with her several times since then. When I saw her today, we concluded with Amazing Grace. Since Mrs. S. knows most all the hymn verses, I play them through several times so that she can sing them all. The last pass through of Amazing Grace she sang the repetitive phrase "Praise God" throughout. It was a powerful few moments. Mrs. S. truly was praising God. I was too.

This is going to be interesting. We'll see how this concept of having a performance diary goes, or plays. I like journaling, but also the privacy. Yesterday was a good day, and like many, one that few would see. I had six 1/2 hour "shows" in a nursing facility in Baltimore, then two 1 hour "shows" in a Wilmington (De) nursing home. This means that I played "Always" (my consistant closing song, along with a few other fixed selections) 8 times. It would be understandable to think that I would get bored with this. I don't. Related to this, I think, is a question I am often asked; "What is your favorite song?". I don't have one. They are (more or less) all tunes, but each one an opportunity for expression. I'm continuing to learn to (increasingly) enjoy and to take advantage of these opportunities.