Intents and "Epilogue"

Today in my Jazz Styles and Analysis class, we discussed how so many of us musicians worry about what the audience, our peers, and our teachers think of our playing, our interpretations, our technique, or our improvisations.

Then I realized how selfish humans are.  We care so much about who sees us and our achievements.  We're afraid of being forgotten, unnoticed, criticized for our mistakes.
Perhaps there is a reason for our selfish natures.  Think about it.   Our internal reasons, as conceited as they are, for performing, for working, for building, are what promote development and movement in the arts, sciences, even the day-to-day living circumstances.

I let that sound-eating monster eat me
and screamed out these melodies:

"Just for once, rid me of selfish cares
And let me be a true artist
Let nobody see."

But in that monster's pit, no one heeding,
 and it'd just be me 

Engulfed to the final truth
with no one to hear

Nightmares are dreams too.

Everything that cries

Ever since I was a little girl, I've looked at the rain and thought they were tears.
I liked to think that maybe the Earth was crying along with me... with the pained... with the happy.
It's funny how I like to personify objects and surroundings, like the mountains and the clouds, and most recently, the trees.

At night when I'm alone, I start wondering if there will be a time when someone will appreciate and understand the same  things I do.

Are we all just falling leaves?

The Little Prince

My favorite book is "The Little Prince".

I read it whenever I'm down.

Here. My very own thoughts.  Take a read: http://thepetitechapter.blogspot.com/?m=1