listening… saxophone, what wonderful passageways of breath and wind… I see saxophonist silhouettes moving with passion, a tenor passion… quite well placed in the open fields of my being, and my being a soft presence too… earthly dry tones of a thoughtful guitar, brown in their own humble self-awareness… thoughtfully exciting… sprouting skywards, but not without gravity… the ebb and flow of land, up from a hillock where my vision stands, a sprawl of flowers… colors… all kinds… some I loved, some revered, some I heard, some skewered… a field of notes, joyous and sad, some spiteful, but mostly just glad…