The view from my seat at the Avalon Theatre in Easton Maryland, last night, a few minutes before Chick Corea assumed the stage for a solo piano concert. As a baseline, it takes a long time to sort my thoughts about anything into a linear expression (words). This one, I fear, is even more complicated. Many thoughts and emotions, and with their continual presence (intrusion) as the music sounded, a purposed intent of disengaging from all that (within myself) rather to engage, unagendized, what was offered. Of course, I never fully got there, but neither was I entirely selfbound. That’s kind of a big deal, as (I’m coming to understand/believe that) I’ve missed a lot along the way thru impatience, and sparse humility. Some of the emotion I experienced last night was akin to how I felt the first time I heard an Art Tatum recording (at age 17, which incidentally, was the age at which Art Tatum made his first recordings, which were the ones I heard), but only some, and not so powerfully (thankfully). It was an amazing evening, on many levels. A slightly fragile appearing (and possibly slightly inebriated, or something) little man commanded the stage, touching the minds and souls of a very grateful audience. Much more I could say, concerning the evening’s impact on me. Hopefully I can express it here before too long. Thanks to the Avalon Theatre, and to Chick for your visions.

It’s been really cool to have Joe back (for about 2 weeks now), and have all the family together (even if for a short time). Didn’t imagine that we’d have another turn (opportunity). As Joe (and Carol) was making the trip east from Oklahoma, I was helping my parents settle into a retirement community. Though much remains unsettled, and the center of gravity has certainly shifted, daily life is beginning to find a groove, for the first time in months. Family dinners are cool. On Tuesday (for my birthday), it was wing night in Middletown, Yay!

As challenges assimilate, and adjustments refine, a bit of rhythm begins to set in. Though I've much to catch up on, it feels like the ship is sailing again (squint hard, and see the Sultana thru the tree, sailing on the Chester River). Not only are my (many) "office disciplines" getting back in gear, but performances also notch up now. It's fair to say that playing the piano (as prayer) releases the anchor for me, and uniquely affords expression (not easily found elsewhere). Am sensing that there may be much (more in my awareness) to say. Anchors aweigh!