PHOTO: Visited Asia . ComBeen difficult to think of singing dreamily over a driving, focused and determined track, but then I realized the irony of the two. I want to float lazily over the musical equivalent of the Colorado Rapids, but the energy pulls me in...and I resist on purpose. I want to maintain my cool and give smooth vocals to make a sort of yin-yang feel, but the drive...the rip tide...the waves envelop me - and I cannot resist. I go back to the place where everything was so familiar to me, and I find that everything is gone - everything has forever changed and I find myself beginning again. A new landscape. A new horizon. Shards of landmarks. Torn pieces of street signage that told me where I once existed and found comfort in familiarity.
I close my eyes and think back to the old, in Black and White I hear Shades of Ella in perfect diction and intonation wrapped in a vessel of everyday brown clay. I turn in further and hear my own Nautilus the echoes out of sync, out of meter, yet I dare to match wits with Shades, I, dare to...evoke.
I hear my own Yesterdays and recollect photographs in sepia brown. I think of all my past loves and post scripts superimposed to my Yesterday, and emerges another Yesterday - my joyous happy sequesterdays. But. Then. I. Think of the Rising Sun, mourn I and remember I that no thing will separate. Not shuddering Earth or Responding tide.
I will make my Second Pass in my Journey tonight with these images in mind, and a shard of the Rising Sun in my voice.
