Let me paint you a picture of perfection.
A sixth floor jazz club overlooking a foggy New York City skyline, Kenny Barron, a rich chocolate cake, and a glass of merlot.
It's nights like this that make me remember why I do music and why, even if music doesn't turn out to be my life's work, I'll always have the passion for it. My ears gravitate towards it and my heart swims in it.
And then, just when things couldn't get any better, I close my eyes for 30 seconds.
I'm no longer in a jazz club, and I'm no longer in a place that -- if turned from color to black and white -- is what I imagine Woody Allen's version of Manhattan (the island, not the movie) to be like. I'm now experiencing a true out-of-body experience.
Ambiance and setting no longer matter, but music and energy do. The intangible energy of the room -- of the patrons, the staff, and the physical space -- overcome my body. The music engulfs me and surround me, like an overwhelming current and undertow. Only this one requires no lifeguard, but rather is welcome. I wish I could drown like this more often.
If I could fall asleep sitting up on a bar-chair, or wouldn't feel guilty for paying $35 in food and cover charge and missing it, I would let myself drift into another world completely and complete the moment by dreaming of being in the exact spot I am.
I open my eyes and get back to reality -- or this alternate reality I create for myself every time I experience the life I wish I could have, well, for life.
With my eyes open, I can single out the instruments -- the flugel, the piano, the bass, the drums, the tenor -- and even pull out specific pitches here and there. I check my pitches against the sax keys or bass positions I can see from the back of the room and let the rest fall into place.
I wish I could afford to live like this every night.
And I hope that one day there's some aspiring musician -- or better yet, fully established musician -- in the back of the club listening to my music with his eyes closed, drowning in the energy and pure emotion that only this can bring.
But if not, I guess I'll be happy to experience it once in a while for myself.
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