Love of life
"Love of life! Love of life!"
That's what the RA (resident advisor) of my freshman dorm in college used to run around saying. Ah, Gabe...who would've ever guessed that your three simple words could be so profound. :)
I just got back from a studio session for my demo. I'm trying to pull together a really nice, solid, demo of jazz standards so I can get out there and gig more instead of having the infrequent (but fun!) shows and needing to "start from scratch" every time. On my drive home, I was thinking about how fortunate and blessed I am to know and have friends that are such extremely talented and supportive musicians---a combination that can sometimes prove to be rather difficult to find.
Tonight, the session included Kurt Ribak on upright bass, Greg Sankovich on keys and Matt Willis on drums with Bill Bentley behind the sound board. I prepared for 6 tunes (aggressive for a 3-hour session, but went in with the expectation doing 3) and quite pleasantly nailed down four. We did Don't Get Around Much Anymore (swing), Nearness of You (slow ballad), Girl from Ipanema (bossa) and People Get Ready (slow rock/soul)--a nice mix of rhythms, I think, for a demo. (ok, so People Get Ready isn't exactly a jazz standard, but c'mon now, gotta give props to Curtis. After Kurt suggested it, I had to get it in there especially with these guys in the studio together. hee hee) They are truly truly a gifted bunch and not only are they extremely talented, but on top of that, they're just some of the nicest, easygoing guys you'd *ever* meet. period.
During the whole session, I'm standing back and listening to them play and just feeling this wonderful sense of calm--a more than welcomed contrast to my "day job" life in the corporate world. As I'm singing through the tunes, it's like a blanket of tranquility dropped itself on my head and said, "Hey! The work's gonna be there tomorrow. Quit yer worrying. It's *this* stuff that's what life's all about!"
I can't seem to ever be able to explain it, but whether you're playing solo or with others, there's just something about music that can sometimes find it's way to a "groove" (and you just *know* when you're there) and you feel this sudden, heightened burst of eurphoria like no other that it's as if nothing else in the world matters for just that quick instance. And to be able to remain suspended in that state, even for just a few moments more, would be like a gift from God. I don't know what it is, but for some reason music is so very capable of tapping into that part of your soul that nothing else can ever reach. It makes you wanna play music even more with the hopes that other people can experience that, too.
But alas, nothing that good lasts forever. I finally get home and reality hits as I enter my oh-so-neglected apartment with its piles and piles of laundry (albeit all clean), papers and half-baked "quick weekend projects" strewn all over the floor that you'd think you just stepped into an abandoned refugee camp. Ah well...love of life!
Comments
We had a jam session after breakfast, classes morning and afternoon, then masterclasses or one-on-one tutorials. After dinner there was an open mike on the big stage, followed by a concert by a different selection of the tutors every night. Being around all that music and the disappearance of the outside world made me feel safe, open and vulnerable. The performances at the concerts were short and without encore so that they would finish early enough to allow us all to go and jam. That meant that the pros were doing their best sets over about a half hour and then the next lot would come on. Take into account that the pros feel the same as the students and often haven't seen each other since the previous year's camp. They were up there jamming with each other and having a fantastic time. Completely top drawer stuff. So, couple that with the fact that I'm feeling open and vulnerable and the music had a clear path right to my very soul. I was in tears every single night, I kid you not. Forget your moment; this went on every night for two whole weeks! If heaven really is a place on earth, I think, for me, it's right there.
I also attend shorter jams and gatherings, usually over a weekend, and it's the same thing. Musicians are the best people and it renews my faith in the joys of living and reminds me that people are generally good.
Glad you're feeling it now, Sheila. I'm off to play some now :)