I guess artists are really supposed to have other people review their shows. But, until that happens regularly, what the heck, I'll talk about it. It's kind of useful to reflect on what you did anyway, especially when you feel like you've taken a risk and it worked. And it feels like the artistic antidote to the come home alone and update the mailing list routine that solo singer songwriters gotta do. So there's your glamour, eh? And the saddest bit is that the more new people at the show the less personal the thank you e-mails can be. So yep, sitting at the computer next to my completely stripped bed from doing laundry this morning, administratively typing into Excel, and now Blogger
and feeling completely blissed (and blessed, but it's more of a tingle).
I've been feeling a sort of performance renaissance lately, almost a complete creative renaissance, but I'm not writing new music much because I've been playing so often (and doing a lot of web design--which is a whole other story). But aside from the slightly over ambitious new year's goals of creating a jazz standards set and playing gigs regularly from San Diego to Santa Barbara (it's been more like Long Beach to
Ventura) I've really accomplished what I set out to do in terms of working my creative muscle over the past 6 months. And I just feel great!
So what happened tonight? Tonight specifically, I felt like I had a really nice messy set. Not that the playing was messy... (Some of it was, though. I had this concept of playing completely with out a pick, and it's always better at home, when you're not so concerned with your projection.) But the idea of starting of the show with the tale of the black kid who gets beat up in his white suburban town and chills out in his bloodied shirt listening to the Beatles on AM oldies radio, smoking dope because he's too smart to show pain. For me and I hope everyone else it was this journey of privilege, keen awareness and disconnect. This world's been really good to me and I've had my share of irrational violence and hatred/prejudice thrown at me early in the game (and still). And I thought it would be interesting to start with the blatant trauma and pretense, then avoid any historical reference and large scale pronouncement and just see how I made out. I'm a hopeful dude, I want family and love, I celebrate joy and connection articulately and passionately. Yet I'm also apt to enjoy too much, remain alone, create ideals and easily move because opportunities are plentiful. It kind of comes down to choice and sometimes the guy I examine in the work takes the path of least resistance when he's initially chosen something far more challenging, and potentially much more fulfilling.
And I guess what made this evening so nice was that I resisted the temptation to sum it up, bring myself to an invulnerably knowing place. I just let the hummingbirds hover, stayed alone on my bike, soaking in the sun. It's just where I am: really happy to be doing what I'm doing, edgy as a hummingbird about a lot of things. But hopefully being as useful pollinating the world and showing a little beauty in the colors of my flight.
To satisfy the girlfriends who like to know the day to day, blow by blow, "stop the philosophical stuff, Jason"... Part of what made it great was being able to play in front of some really good friends from my community of artists. I won't name names, but if you're interested get the book, Voices from
Leimert Park, and you'll read a lot of them. And then to magnify the occasion, two really wonderful new elders in my life showed up. One was a lawyer back in the Civil Rights movement who did time in jail with Martin Luther King, Jr. He inspires me so much because he's equally enamored with my even newer friend whom also showed up with friends, an 88 year old pianist and vocalist, who played for years in Casablanca though is a native
Angeleno. Nothing inspires me more than a person continuing to seek out the wisdom and history of the elders well into their elder years. That's one thing I really miss about my father, not only do I not get to ask him about things that went on for him as a man my age, I miss seeing him inquire with the old folks we used to love to meet. My mentors are all very curious men...and women, but sometimes I feel like men don't get noticed for their hunger for nurturing spiritual connections, so when I see that I'm inspired.
OK...'
nuff now. I'll write all night. The point is that I'm inspired. And the great thing is that it's the combination of what we all brought into that room tonight as performers and audience that's done it for me. And I just feel so grateful.
Thanks!
Love,
Jason
