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At this point I’ve learned enough about Stan Getz’s face to picture it and describe it without looking at a photo: Pale. Nose slightly aquiline. Short but not weak chin. Deep-set eyes, with sockets sloping upward toward the middle of the face. Ears small but protrusive. (Birth trauma trivia: Stan’s poor mom, Goldie, had 35 hours of labor. The doctor went in with forceps. Stan’s head was so big one of his ears was almost torn off and needed suturing. The doctor said they couldn’t leave with Stan until they’d paid an additional $52–a huge sum of money in 1927–for the ear work. “$52?” Al Getz gasped. “That’s too much. You can keep him.” Then he paid up.)

Here is a first take on a solo headshot of Stan Getz. There will be four more.

stan getz 030615

Words:

Smoothened F then sharpened G
Talk with tune of what will be
Anthemed improv free of rust
No one’s catspaw no one’s klutz

Here is that work in progress from a couple of posts ago. Adding the acrostic and a great deal of detail on the sax, and subtracting the “mood indigo” photoediting effects I had used before, turns it into a different visual experience.

saxophone 030615

Here are the words to the double acrostic poem:

Tension eases Music rises
Effortlessly on it goes
Energy averts the crisis
Nestling riffs to curl the toes
Oscillating chordage drove ya
Out of country–Bossa Nova
Rendered Heaven pressed in wax
Rife with Wonder none dare tax

saxophone 030115

If March goes well, it will be chock-full of drawings of saxophones and jazz combos and portraits of major jazz musicians. In that spirit I kicked off March with a drawing of a saxophone of a friend of mine. No poetry, no “value added” distracting ancillary material–just a saxophone, a hint of the stand it rode in on, and some counterbalancing background.

Snow is falling here in Cottonwood. Earlier I had made up my mind to drive to the Village of Oak Creek to retrieve a CD a friend had burned for me, which I’d foolishly left in my drawer at work and forgotten to take home. (In my defense, I’d had an unexpected 12-hour shift…) But the falling snow convinces me, with little experience driving on snowy roads, to stay in the warm and cozy. I’ll get the CD tomorrow, and put it in the truck before my shift begins.

The moral of this non-story is that sometimes the best thing to do is no thing at all. Thus this page:

001

Now let us be quite candid
Uplift & have & hold
Then we’ll be even-handed
Hubraics countermanded
It does no good to scold
Nonaction is an unflipped coin
Gong yet unbashed an unboinged boing

Cosmos Combos

C: configures space&time: speed of light is C
Oscillations play the temp–atoms dance allegro
Silver’s born in nova’s cosh…pressured, stars go Boom
Matters dark & otherwise; Womb to Zoom to Tomb
Off on hyperbolic jaunts! Conic secs by Lego
Seen through a galactic lens, we are but debris

001

This morning Denise told me something that inspired first the acrostic bookends and then the words within them. This page and this post, therefore, are dedicated to her, with my love.

002

Throwing guidebooks in the trash
Rids us of the “have-to” cache
Useful more to sense our aura
Eminent as one adorer
Safe within that two-souled breast
There will grow our Fearlessness

001

“Into each life a little rain must fall.” Thank Goodness for such unparched earth as results.

The triple acrostic was tricky when I added the stricture of keeping the total word count under 25. It comes in at 23 when you include the acrostic words. Rhyming L and I didn’t happen, though it could’ve if I could’ve worked in Bain de Soleil and Feng Shui. Didn’t, because a) I’d already done that with another acrostic and b) the far more important fact that it would’ve been nonsensical.

Here’s the four-line, triple, 23-total-words, only-one-of-the-couplets-rhymes-well acrostic:

invigorate your wherewithal
now add a dash of calamari
to generate a cleft motif
of mr. bosch and ms. o’keeffe