Journal #37

When I listen to Blue Monk by Miles Davis and the Monk Quartet, I see many things. I someone playing a piano in a little jazz club. The club is dark and a little smokey, with people sitting at small tables lighted with candles, sitting on top of dark red table clothes. The audience taps along as the saxophone plays along with the piano, and the drummer begins in. I picture the saxophonist getting very into the song, playing from his heart, and his eyes closed so he can feel the music. Around the room, the people so the same as their heads bob, and their feet tap. As the piano fades out and just a faint drum sounds in the back, the saxophone takes its solo, and the people watch with awe. As the piano rejoins for its solo, I picture the some couples slowly getting up to dance. The men twirl the women around the dance floor, as they feel the beat through their bodies. They slow down as the bass solo begins, and watch the bassist with his glasses on strum as his body moves with the rhythm. He also bobs his head and his body, while the whole room watched him. Everyone soon rejoins as the audience claps for the solos and begin to dance again as the music picks up. Around the room, I picture people at a bar, smoking a cigarette and drinking as the music ends they all stand and clap for the musicians hard work and soulful music. As the musicians exit the stage the people slowly finish their conversations filled with awe and praise for the solos, and wish to come again next week. They put on their coats and gradually leave the smokey jazz club until it is only the bartender left cleaning, and the musicians thanking each other and packing up their instruments. They say their goodbyes and will be back next week to do it again.