I am sitting in a hotel room in Rolla, a city an hour west of St. Louis, Missouri. Rather than think about the topic of the talk I am giving tomorrow at an area church, I am preoccupied. I am tempted to watch the Matrix trilogy on television for the umpteenth time. I have a whirl pool in the room that I can't wait to try out. I am disappointed that the sign on the wall of the tub prohibits the use of a bubble bath.
I am staring at a picture that a friend and I took together in the airport of Brasilia (the capitol of Brazil) a couple of months ago. A physically and incredibly attractive woman, she is even more so in her spirit and soul. Falling into cliches that abound when a man has a certain fondness for a particular woman, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met. There has not been a day since I met her that I don't think about her.
We were part of a larger group that traveled to Abandiana to visit the Casa de Dom Inacio of the Portuguese healer John of God. A life changing experience, I am returning again in a few weeks with a different set of travel companions. I am embarrassed to admit that I am partially hesitant about my intended trip, because my friend won't be there. I am rather fortunate to be returning as soon as I am. However, I suppose it isn't very spiritual of me to be preoccupied with thoughts about a woman instead of concerns about more conventional sacred things.
I attended a service last night by my friend. He is a Hindu priest, a devotee of Krishna and a part of the Rasik tradition. He led a healing service invoking sacred energy along with a transmission of the Divine Mother. It was absolutely powerful and engaging. I am glad I attended. Still, for a significant part of the evening, I found myself thinking about the friend I met in Brazil. In some ways, she felt as tangibly present to my mind, as the people in the room with me for the healing service. Honestly, I always find positive thoughts about women to be somewhat spiritual. According to Hindu tradition, even Lord Krishna had a consort name Radha. One may thus hypothesize that even the Divine desires a woman!
In the Woody Allen film, "VickyCristinaBarcelona," the narrator of the film makes an observation regarding one of the character's, the artist Juan Antonio. Within weeks of meeting an attractive American graduate student, he asks her to move in with him. The narrator remarks that like many creative men, Juan Antonio needed to live with a woman. The narrator suggests that it is the passion of the relationship that fuels his creative inspiration. My temperament is such that I am not sure if I could handle a live in companion. Nevertheless, I am more than aware that I am at my most creative when I have a woman in my life.
Like most Woody Allen films, the characters are complex, ambivalent and defy a certain level of conformity. For instance, Juan Antonio's father, a gifted poet, will not share his romantic poems with others. He is punishing the world, because it does not know how to love. In a different but related vein, Juan Antonio's ex-wife, a painter, suggests that for love to remain romantic, it cannot be realized. Juan Antonio concludes that life is boring and meaningless. At best, we can strive to have fun. It may be that Allen's film suggests that for all of the complexities of love, if not live itself, renders them deeply unsatisfying, because of the transitory nature of love and life.
Whatever connection my own ramblings might yield, given the random associations of avoiding my responsibility to devise a theme for my talk, reminiscing around various spiritual experiences, and discussions around a Woody Allen film, I am certain of only a few things. I met an incredibly woman some time ago that is very important to me. I treasure her friendship. Since we live in different parts of the country, and cannot see each other often, I miss her a great deal. I cannot dismiss my feelings for her as unsatisfactory, because we are not together. I believe that the greater affection that I have for her punctuates the loneliness I feel without her. While maybe desiring more, for now my memories of her are sufficient!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Mother's Day
My mother and I have an ongoing disagreement. When it comes to Mother's Day, her birthday, and/or any significant holiday, she does not want a gift. She says she knows I love her. She then suggests a simple luncheon or an afternoon watching a dvd. She encourages me to save my money. She knows that as a single man, I am responsible for the entirety of my expenses. I tend to ignore her wishes in that regard.
I like to make a big production out of any of the significant days where I have a chance to honor my mother. My rationale, though she seems incline to diminish it, is that she is the only mother I have. I remind her of how much she has done for my sister and I over the years. I willingly admit that she has unconditionally supported every one of my crazy endeavors since I could walk. She claims that is what any mother would do for her children.
I am aware that part of the fuss I make over my mother is that I remember when she was a struggling divorcee balancing a full-time job, her college studies, and two kids. She was the sole head of our household. At times, she was understandably pre-occupied, if not tense, during those years. More times than not, though, she was funny, emotionally available and all to willing to give even more of herself to a fault. As the oldest daughter in her family of origin, she is the matriarch of our extended family. All to often, she would chide me when opting for selfishness over sharing with others that "it's right to do right."
Without assistance from anyone, she was (and is) an example of someone that made it through sheer will and determination. As most kids do, I did not fully appreciate the sacrifices she made for my sister and me. We never went without anything that we needed. More than just the necessities, she provided ample opportunity for me to play soccer, participate in the scouts, spend every summer at camp, etc.
My mother was the one that bandage my knee when I scraped it. She told me I could be someone when teachers implied I was less than capable. She was the one that wiped my tears when my father failed yet again to deliver on a promise to spend time with me. My mom remembers those days, as her not being able to give us more. I cannot imagine her doing any less than she did.
One of my favorite memories, as young adult, is the day I received my undergraduate degree from college. That same day, she received her graduate degree. A decade later, she was present when I received my second graduate degree. Just a few weeks prior, she had been hospitalized, and almost lost her. She promised me should be present. That day, my sister, my mom and I took a picture that this past Christmas I gave back to her, as an oil painting.
My point is quite simply: I love my mother. She has given me her all, as a son. She is an example to me of selfless giving. She demonstrated her love by always being there when I needed her. Also, she was there to celebrate and appreciate the good times, as well. Because of her, I am the person that I am today.
Thus, any chance I get to honor the woman that has stood by me unconditionally, I will do so. For that matter, I appreciate every woman that is a mother. Being a mother is an amazing achievement that deserves the utmost respect from every man. So to all women everywhere, Happy Mother's Day!
I like to make a big production out of any of the significant days where I have a chance to honor my mother. My rationale, though she seems incline to diminish it, is that she is the only mother I have. I remind her of how much she has done for my sister and I over the years. I willingly admit that she has unconditionally supported every one of my crazy endeavors since I could walk. She claims that is what any mother would do for her children.
I am aware that part of the fuss I make over my mother is that I remember when she was a struggling divorcee balancing a full-time job, her college studies, and two kids. She was the sole head of our household. At times, she was understandably pre-occupied, if not tense, during those years. More times than not, though, she was funny, emotionally available and all to willing to give even more of herself to a fault. As the oldest daughter in her family of origin, she is the matriarch of our extended family. All to often, she would chide me when opting for selfishness over sharing with others that "it's right to do right."
Without assistance from anyone, she was (and is) an example of someone that made it through sheer will and determination. As most kids do, I did not fully appreciate the sacrifices she made for my sister and me. We never went without anything that we needed. More than just the necessities, she provided ample opportunity for me to play soccer, participate in the scouts, spend every summer at camp, etc.
My mother was the one that bandage my knee when I scraped it. She told me I could be someone when teachers implied I was less than capable. She was the one that wiped my tears when my father failed yet again to deliver on a promise to spend time with me. My mom remembers those days, as her not being able to give us more. I cannot imagine her doing any less than she did.
One of my favorite memories, as young adult, is the day I received my undergraduate degree from college. That same day, she received her graduate degree. A decade later, she was present when I received my second graduate degree. Just a few weeks prior, she had been hospitalized, and almost lost her. She promised me should be present. That day, my sister, my mom and I took a picture that this past Christmas I gave back to her, as an oil painting.
My point is quite simply: I love my mother. She has given me her all, as a son. She is an example to me of selfless giving. She demonstrated her love by always being there when I needed her. Also, she was there to celebrate and appreciate the good times, as well. Because of her, I am the person that I am today.
Thus, any chance I get to honor the woman that has stood by me unconditionally, I will do so. For that matter, I appreciate every woman that is a mother. Being a mother is an amazing achievement that deserves the utmost respect from every man. So to all women everywhere, Happy Mother's Day!
Monday, March 29, 2010
A Glimpse into the Soul of a Woman
The poem below was originally written for an artist and friend in response to a gallery showing of her work. Her paintings were dedicated to the feminine form. Her aesthetic use of color and form demonstrated both a sensual, yet vulnerable vision of female sexuality that was exciting and provocative. At least, that was my interpretation of her work. In response, my poem was an attempt to capture the sentiment that I experienced from her paintings.
Ironically, my friend hated this poem. I think she thought what I wrote was about her the artist, as opposed to the art itself. Besides, I suspect that my poem was a bit to close for comfort in that she could express her sexuality through art, but was not prepared to look at it from the perspective of another. It was then that I learned that even artists could be unaware of the complexity of their own work. More so, that even artists could not hold the definitive interpretation to their work. Interpretation is a de facto reality given any one's right to make an opinion, even if from the perspective of the artist, it is ill-informed.
This poem is still dedicated to the friend that hated it. She served as early inspiration for me in reclaiming my own creative sense of vision and purpose. I am grateful for the passion she ignited in me to capture the feminine form in my own art and poetry.
A Glimpse into the Soul of a Woman
@ copyright John Blair
As you allow me
to watch you
give birth
to the self
you discover
through the love you offer yourself
What joy do you awaken
as you touch yourself
into release
Evoking
calling forth
summoning
the ecstasy of sensation
Amidst the vulnerability
that you disclose
through the caressing
of the space between your legs
The delicate
if not fragile
way that you embrace
your self
Displays a tenderness
like two lovers
who cling to each other
when the physicality of their
passion has subsided
So there you stand
unashamed to be yourself
supported in the stance you assume
by the development of your
well proportion thighs
You hold your shapely breasts
like a secret you will never tell
massage away the insecurities
fondle pass the doubts
Reclaim your voice
your mind
and spirit
they all belong by right to you
No words I imagine
can give voice to the whispers of
your sighs and moans
so preciously uttered
in the sanctuary of your body
Even god
could not have conceived
the elegance and beauty
exuded by the multiplicity
of your orgasms
That just by your touch
the flesh and the spirit
are united
By soft
gentle weeping
does your body and soul
affect its climax
achieving its completion
Ironically, my friend hated this poem. I think she thought what I wrote was about her the artist, as opposed to the art itself. Besides, I suspect that my poem was a bit to close for comfort in that she could express her sexuality through art, but was not prepared to look at it from the perspective of another. It was then that I learned that even artists could be unaware of the complexity of their own work. More so, that even artists could not hold the definitive interpretation to their work. Interpretation is a de facto reality given any one's right to make an opinion, even if from the perspective of the artist, it is ill-informed.
This poem is still dedicated to the friend that hated it. She served as early inspiration for me in reclaiming my own creative sense of vision and purpose. I am grateful for the passion she ignited in me to capture the feminine form in my own art and poetry.
A Glimpse into the Soul of a Woman
@ copyright John Blair
As you allow me
to watch you
give birth
to the self
you discover
through the love you offer yourself
What joy do you awaken
as you touch yourself
into release
Evoking
calling forth
summoning
the ecstasy of sensation
Amidst the vulnerability
that you disclose
through the caressing
of the space between your legs
The delicate
if not fragile
way that you embrace
your self
Displays a tenderness
like two lovers
who cling to each other
when the physicality of their
passion has subsided
So there you stand
unashamed to be yourself
supported in the stance you assume
by the development of your
well proportion thighs
You hold your shapely breasts
like a secret you will never tell
massage away the insecurities
fondle pass the doubts
Reclaim your voice
your mind
and spirit
they all belong by right to you
No words I imagine
can give voice to the whispers of
your sighs and moans
so preciously uttered
in the sanctuary of your body
Even god
could not have conceived
the elegance and beauty
exuded by the multiplicity
of your orgasms
That just by your touch
the flesh and the spirit
are united
By soft
gentle weeping
does your body and soul
affect its climax
achieving its completion
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Still Writing Against The Advice of Many
WARNING: There is absolutely no rhyme or reason to the following blog. It is self-indulgent bordering on narcissistic that advances no contribution to the betterment of society as a whole.
It has been months since I have actively kept up this blog. Intended to be an outlet for my personal writings, I became ambivalent about what I was writing. Add to my ambivalence a touch of seasonal affective depression, along with the ending of a largely passionate relationship with a former girlfriend, and a plaguing sense of doubt that my artistic life had become redundant, I was running on empty. Rather than write, I chose the path of lease resistance opting to lose myself in bad television re-runs and stacks of books that went unread. I am the cliche epitome of the tortured writer and painter.
The advent of spring has re-invigorated me, even if a couple of days into it the new season, the weather is cold, damp and gray. I attribute my new surge in energy to the liberal use of Ginseng with which I lace my herbal tea, as well as the raw apple cider I drink three times a day. Then again, it could be months of associating with alternative treatment specialist like a chiropractor and an acupuncturist trying to stimulate my psycho-physical energy back breaks and needles. I am not sure if this is modern day quackery but I feel better just the same.
I have identified that my desire to create is usually connected to whatever particular woman is in my life and has 3/4ths of my attention. Women are my primary source of inspiration. I like everything about women. A woman's movement is like dance; her speech like poetry; her figure living artistry. Even when she is wrong, a woman is right. If perfection had a name, it would be woman. This exclusive focus on women may explain why I have so few male friends.
The range of a woman's emotional inner life leaves me perplexed and unbalanced. I make no claims to understand the women I have loved, but I have been intrigued and enamored by every one. I play my part in whatever role I am consigned to play in the unfolding, ritual drama that the woman I desire creates for us. That is written as a compliment to the imaginative play of the women in my life. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the term for an enlightened woman is a dakini, a female yogini that literally translates to a sky dancer. It is an indication that a woman cannot be constrained by the bonds of this world.
Speaking of Buddhism, or Christianity or Hinduism for that matter, I am clearly agnostic in its original usage and meaning. I don't know but I am ever searching for the Truth. As part of my deliberations over the last several weeks, I am still committed to the whole spiritual thang. I pray and meditate, but am not sure why. I have no interest in sectarian dogmas, doctrine or creeds. I'm not bright enough to follow most of the metaphysical arguments expounded about either this or that. Like ripples in a pond, I believe the boundaries between most religious traditions are more fluid than rigid. I'm not sure I identify with any one tradition any more, so much as I can see the point most of the groups are making.
In closing, I hope to focus more on my blog, and make contributions worth reading for only the marginal few. Without a preference for any particular political, religious, or societal posture of the day, there is not much of a stance I can make. I lean towards an all inclusive general stance that all people have a right to food, shelter, medical resources. Other than that, I don't know if President Obama's health care plan is feasible. I trust that the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are no less feasible from a fiscal budgeting perspective, but the conflict is still being engaged. Why not devote a third of those resources to making sure people are healthy.
Anyway, the point of it all...I'm still here, still unfocused, still rambling without any ability to make a meaningful contribution towards anything worthwhile or serious.
It has been months since I have actively kept up this blog. Intended to be an outlet for my personal writings, I became ambivalent about what I was writing. Add to my ambivalence a touch of seasonal affective depression, along with the ending of a largely passionate relationship with a former girlfriend, and a plaguing sense of doubt that my artistic life had become redundant, I was running on empty. Rather than write, I chose the path of lease resistance opting to lose myself in bad television re-runs and stacks of books that went unread. I am the cliche epitome of the tortured writer and painter.
The advent of spring has re-invigorated me, even if a couple of days into it the new season, the weather is cold, damp and gray. I attribute my new surge in energy to the liberal use of Ginseng with which I lace my herbal tea, as well as the raw apple cider I drink three times a day. Then again, it could be months of associating with alternative treatment specialist like a chiropractor and an acupuncturist trying to stimulate my psycho-physical energy back breaks and needles. I am not sure if this is modern day quackery but I feel better just the same.
I have identified that my desire to create is usually connected to whatever particular woman is in my life and has 3/4ths of my attention. Women are my primary source of inspiration. I like everything about women. A woman's movement is like dance; her speech like poetry; her figure living artistry. Even when she is wrong, a woman is right. If perfection had a name, it would be woman. This exclusive focus on women may explain why I have so few male friends.
The range of a woman's emotional inner life leaves me perplexed and unbalanced. I make no claims to understand the women I have loved, but I have been intrigued and enamored by every one. I play my part in whatever role I am consigned to play in the unfolding, ritual drama that the woman I desire creates for us. That is written as a compliment to the imaginative play of the women in my life. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the term for an enlightened woman is a dakini, a female yogini that literally translates to a sky dancer. It is an indication that a woman cannot be constrained by the bonds of this world.
Speaking of Buddhism, or Christianity or Hinduism for that matter, I am clearly agnostic in its original usage and meaning. I don't know but I am ever searching for the Truth. As part of my deliberations over the last several weeks, I am still committed to the whole spiritual thang. I pray and meditate, but am not sure why. I have no interest in sectarian dogmas, doctrine or creeds. I'm not bright enough to follow most of the metaphysical arguments expounded about either this or that. Like ripples in a pond, I believe the boundaries between most religious traditions are more fluid than rigid. I'm not sure I identify with any one tradition any more, so much as I can see the point most of the groups are making.
In closing, I hope to focus more on my blog, and make contributions worth reading for only the marginal few. Without a preference for any particular political, religious, or societal posture of the day, there is not much of a stance I can make. I lean towards an all inclusive general stance that all people have a right to food, shelter, medical resources. Other than that, I don't know if President Obama's health care plan is feasible. I trust that the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are no less feasible from a fiscal budgeting perspective, but the conflict is still being engaged. Why not devote a third of those resources to making sure people are healthy.
Anyway, the point of it all...I'm still here, still unfocused, still rambling without any ability to make a meaningful contribution towards anything worthwhile or serious.
Friday, February 12, 2010
February 12, 2010 ~ Reiki and the Catholic Church | Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly
February 12, 2010 ~ Reiki and the Catholic Church Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly
An interesting discussion regarding the practice of Reiki and the negative view taken by the US Catholic Bishops. As a Reiki practitioner myself, it is somewhat disheartening that a spiritual practice meant to alleviate pain and suffering would be dismissed by the bishops of the Catholic Church. It is a rather odd stance given that Jesus and his followers were known to practice spiritual healing and exorcisms. According to the Gospel of Luke 6:18-20:
"They had come to hear him {Jesus} and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. And all in the crowed were trying to touch him {Jesus}, for the power came out from him and healed all of them."
Later, in the Gospel of Luke 9:1-3, 6
"Then Jesus' called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal...they departed and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere."
While I can appreciate the bishops' concern for right teaching, Reiki in and of itself is not a belief system. It is an outlook on life meant to encourage wholeness and well-being; it is not meant to be the cause of separation and strife. Christians can interpret Reiki within the doctrines of the church. For that matter, any traditional religious practices can accommodate the practice of Reiki. Jesus and his followers proclaimed the reality of the Kingdom of God, as a transformational reality in which the blind would see, the lame would walk, the deaf would hear, the prisoners would go free (I am paraphrasing both the Book of Isaiah and the Gospel of Luke.) Further, Jesus spoke about the in breaking reality of the reign of God where "the first would be last, and the last would be first," and that all would have a place in God's kingdom. I suppose all Christians that practice the ministry of healing should take heart; after a; the religious authorities of Jesus' day gave him and his followers hell for practicing the ministry of healing, too. If I remember the scriptures correctly, this was one of the reasons his opponents had him killed.
Perhaps, the Catholic bishops might be in bad faith, as they seem to doubt the reality of healing that was the cornerstone of Jesus' ministry.
An interesting discussion regarding the practice of Reiki and the negative view taken by the US Catholic Bishops. As a Reiki practitioner myself, it is somewhat disheartening that a spiritual practice meant to alleviate pain and suffering would be dismissed by the bishops of the Catholic Church. It is a rather odd stance given that Jesus and his followers were known to practice spiritual healing and exorcisms. According to the Gospel of Luke 6:18-20:
"They had come to hear him {Jesus} and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. And all in the crowed were trying to touch him {Jesus}, for the power came out from him and healed all of them."
Later, in the Gospel of Luke 9:1-3, 6
"Then Jesus' called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal...they departed and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere."
While I can appreciate the bishops' concern for right teaching, Reiki in and of itself is not a belief system. It is an outlook on life meant to encourage wholeness and well-being; it is not meant to be the cause of separation and strife. Christians can interpret Reiki within the doctrines of the church. For that matter, any traditional religious practices can accommodate the practice of Reiki. Jesus and his followers proclaimed the reality of the Kingdom of God, as a transformational reality in which the blind would see, the lame would walk, the deaf would hear, the prisoners would go free (I am paraphrasing both the Book of Isaiah and the Gospel of Luke.) Further, Jesus spoke about the in breaking reality of the reign of God where "the first would be last, and the last would be first," and that all would have a place in God's kingdom. I suppose all Christians that practice the ministry of healing should take heart; after a; the religious authorities of Jesus' day gave him and his followers hell for practicing the ministry of healing, too. If I remember the scriptures correctly, this was one of the reasons his opponents had him killed.
Perhaps, the Catholic bishops might be in bad faith, as they seem to doubt the reality of healing that was the cornerstone of Jesus' ministry.
Monday, February 8, 2010
YouTube - Nina Simone Live At Montreux 1976 - Backlash Blues
YouTube - Nina Simone Live At Montreux 1976 - Backlash Blues
Nina Simone, musician, singer, and activist, was a true original. She was uncompromising in her music and in views. She was the consummate artist indifferent to the whims of the recording industry. She recorded her music her way. It is a shame that she is not more well known and respected in the United States.
Nina Simone, musician, singer, and activist, was a true original. She was uncompromising in her music and in views. She was the consummate artist indifferent to the whims of the recording industry. She recorded her music her way. It is a shame that she is not more well known and respected in the United States.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
YouTube - Originals: Gil Scott-Heron 3/6
YouTube - Originals: Gil Scott-Heron 3/6
Gil Scott-Heron, poet and musician, is the "Godfather of the Spoken Word." Hailed as the "Black" Bob Dylan, Gil came of age during the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s. Poignant, relevant, and authentic, Gil's work has been marginalized from the mainstream, yet he has been a tremendous influence on the Hip Hop generation and other African American poets. Attached is part of a documentary examining the highs and lows of his life and career. One of his most famous works, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised."
Gil Scott-Heron, poet and musician, is the "Godfather of the Spoken Word." Hailed as the "Black" Bob Dylan, Gil came of age during the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s. Poignant, relevant, and authentic, Gil's work has been marginalized from the mainstream, yet he has been a tremendous influence on the Hip Hop generation and other African American poets. Attached is part of a documentary examining the highs and lows of his life and career. One of his most famous works, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised."
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
YouTube - Alice Coltrane in Bombay
YouTube - Alice Coltrane in Bombay
Alice Coltrane charted her own path musically and spiritually. Through devotion and selfless giving, she embodied the path of a true devotee. I am grateful to have encountered her spirit and teachings through the power of the Divine Sound. The indication of the presence of the Divine is the joy embodied in the person that radiates it. That joy was found in the person of Alice Coltrane. Om Shanti
Alice Coltrane charted her own path musically and spiritually. Through devotion and selfless giving, she embodied the path of a true devotee. I am grateful to have encountered her spirit and teachings through the power of the Divine Sound. The indication of the presence of the Divine is the joy embodied in the person that radiates it. That joy was found in the person of Alice Coltrane. Om Shanti
Sunday, January 24, 2010
YouTube - Miles davis et John Coltrane - So what
YouTube - Miles davis et John Coltrane - So what
I read the Autobiography of Miles Davis when I was seventeen years old. It changed my life. I had never read anything so frank if not crude, so insightful if not revelatory. I had never encountered someone, either in real time or imagined time vis a vis literature that was brutally honest to a fault. He was unflinching in his vision, as a person and musician. He was someone I was both fascinated with, as well as intimidated by given my own inexperience with life.
Twenty years later, I am still scared of Miles. I am afraid that I will be too over reliant on his perspective, too reluctant to share my own understanding of life. I struggle to embrace the courage that I so easily identify with in Miles. Yet, if I have learned anything from Miles, my trepidation would be the opposite of what he sought in himself and elicited in others. He encouraged people to be as real, to be themselves, as he was even if it was not pleasant or nice.
The willingness to be himself, is perhaps, one of his greater legacies. I suppose the greatest lesson I learned from Miles was the value in being myself. Perhaps, it's taken me twenty years to trust what I have to say.
I read the Autobiography of Miles Davis when I was seventeen years old. It changed my life. I had never read anything so frank if not crude, so insightful if not revelatory. I had never encountered someone, either in real time or imagined time vis a vis literature that was brutally honest to a fault. He was unflinching in his vision, as a person and musician. He was someone I was both fascinated with, as well as intimidated by given my own inexperience with life.
Twenty years later, I am still scared of Miles. I am afraid that I will be too over reliant on his perspective, too reluctant to share my own understanding of life. I struggle to embrace the courage that I so easily identify with in Miles. Yet, if I have learned anything from Miles, my trepidation would be the opposite of what he sought in himself and elicited in others. He encouraged people to be as real, to be themselves, as he was even if it was not pleasant or nice.
The willingness to be himself, is perhaps, one of his greater legacies. I suppose the greatest lesson I learned from Miles was the value in being myself. Perhaps, it's taken me twenty years to trust what I have to say.
YouTube - John Coltrane Quartet - On Green Dolphin Street - 1960
YouTube - John Coltrane Quartet - On Green Dolphin Street - 1960
I have been infatuated with the music of John Coltrane for close to fifteen years. I first encountered his music in the context of sacred worship of praise and devotion. For a brief moment, I was a member of the St. John Coltrane African Orthodox Church in San Francisco, CA. I spent many of Sundays intoxicated by the musical vision of Coltrane.
While I cannot say that I have always understood the spirituality so evident in his masterpiece, "A Love Supreme," or the music that followed, I most recently have come to understand it as the painstaking faithfulness of a man devoted to the ecstasy of God. Every single note of his music matched with every inpouring and outpouring of breath was dedicated to the realization of God.
He courageously proclaimed that all paths lead to God, the Ultimate Source. He chose, or rather was claimed, by the path of vibration, the power of sound. Into that sound I was baptised many years ago. I am grateful that I have been confirmed, as well as continuing to ascend the musical landscapes of a spiritual heights that by myself I could not reach where it not for the direction of St. John Will-I-Am Coltrane. I humbly offer a glimpse of the 'Trane.
I have been infatuated with the music of John Coltrane for close to fifteen years. I first encountered his music in the context of sacred worship of praise and devotion. For a brief moment, I was a member of the St. John Coltrane African Orthodox Church in San Francisco, CA. I spent many of Sundays intoxicated by the musical vision of Coltrane.
While I cannot say that I have always understood the spirituality so evident in his masterpiece, "A Love Supreme," or the music that followed, I most recently have come to understand it as the painstaking faithfulness of a man devoted to the ecstasy of God. Every single note of his music matched with every inpouring and outpouring of breath was dedicated to the realization of God.
He courageously proclaimed that all paths lead to God, the Ultimate Source. He chose, or rather was claimed, by the path of vibration, the power of sound. Into that sound I was baptised many years ago. I am grateful that I have been confirmed, as well as continuing to ascend the musical landscapes of a spiritual heights that by myself I could not reach where it not for the direction of St. John Will-I-Am Coltrane. I humbly offer a glimpse of the 'Trane.
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