A few years ago, as I was watching a late-in-life interview of Dave McKenna, my ears (and heart) perked up when he said "As I get older, I consider myself more a song player than a jazz player". Just as strongly as I connected with his playing when I first heard him on the Merv Griffin television show in 1979(?), I connected with his words from a couple of decades or so later. And by connection I mean in the deepest sense, beyond resonation or agreement, more like being joined to, or becoming one with. When he played, I heard it in my soul, I felt it in my soul, like it was already there, just waiting for me to notice. When I heard his words in the interview, it touched that same space. And here's the funny thing about it, and by funny I mean profound. Each of those connections were their own comprehensive events, or better put, moments. The moment is that space where you are connected to everything all at once; not to a process, but to meaning, realization, acknowledgment. Again, like it is already there, just waiting to be noticed. And once you notice that which is waiting to be found, it can become an immediate part of you. No learning, study or further thought is required. It now lives in you, and can inspire continued thought, study or development, just as a seed can grow into a flower or a vegetable or a tree. With this in mind, my first listening encounter to Dave McKenna didn't inspire more listening, rather the exploration (rather intensely) of the new room in the artistic house that just had the light switch activated. So perhaps it would be a surprise to learn that I never much listened to Dave McKenna again for many years. When he touched that place in my soul, or opened the door to that room in my house, it wasn't about him; or perhaps better put, what he could teach me (by listening more). It was about my own explorations, finding and sorting through what was already there, waiting to be found. Now, perhaps it won't be a surprise to learn that when I revisited  Dave McKenna a few decades later, I learned (what was already there, waiting to be found,) that my style had evolved to having some strong similarities to his. But also, unique distinctions. It was/is mine, though unmistakably (at times) inspired by Dave McKenna. Over time I've observed the effect of this inspiration evolve, but it never leaves. Once something is (truly) found, it remains.