A compendium of thoughts and images inspired by one particular solo performance from free-jazz pianist Cecil Taylor.
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Notes to Cecil
After 6, chords dislike counting. In light, notes are patient.
A typical, senseless figurative green + the place it demands > the permission to demand these places
> we talk + point
Another day closed to distance, and also another day unstrictured.
the day arriving and leaving, pointing
—Give it here: a light, a sign, a double weight of brightness.
how do we hear luster through blur?
even if we started to wander you continued to bloomeven if you stopped blooming we watched you color the room
Then, whatever came through
—as though we were wandering, as though we needed a corner, an edge, a way to see in—
upswell and scatter: slowly roused
Sometimes there needs to be nearly nothing a half a sign, a riddled window. Sometimes your fingers for an hour going over the beginning.
I often wonder, Cecil, if you had us there for resurrecting. You put the urgent
in our ear—
dear baffle, dear wrinkle, dear expansion, —
—for when we might not be here — blue and blue and blue and blue
I was a blank canvas that night, and Cecil—you put your palms out to spread color.
from one side —
a heartbeat crawling over keys