My Jazz Has Changed

       My Jazz Has Changed

My jazz has changed.

Warts and all,

Jazz is my call

Reflecting life’s endeavors.

I could never leave it.

I mature and it matures.

Meaning: freedom and invention.

Freedom of invention,

The sensation near ecstatic.

Who cares if I use elbows to create a chord?

No one!

Who cares if I make screw up,

Am not a nerd – part of the herd?

No one!

Everything is up to me, in me, from me –

Each note, each beat, each melody.

Coming each year, parting fear

That was and used to be there.

A ready leaving of control,

Letting an other whole come through.

The point is: no one knows or cares but you.

The freedom and invention where it should be

At the very point in history.

 

My Jazz Has Changed 4.16.2017

Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin

Everything An Etude

 

Everything An Etude

Your cooking, your yoga,

Your diet, your posture:

Everything a try,

Chance to be brave

Chance to be plucky:

Symphony unfinished;

All’s a laboratory.

 

Everything an opportunity.

An exercise to make you better.

Never best.

There is no best.

So rest in knowing

Everything is etude.

 

Everything Is Etude 4.11.2017

The Processes; Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Definitely Didactic; Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

It’s Always For Others To Interpret

I was reading, by some fluke, a book that’s been sitting in the hall waiting to be given away to some charity or other. On this day, I happened to pick it up on my way out to sit in the October sun. The name: The Nobel Prize for Literature 1901-1983.

 

It’s Always For Others To Interpret

 

Dylan’s won the Nobel Prize.

You write, you fall, you rise,

Or rise and fall

Pleasing none or all.

You’ve written self…part of…

Round themes of evil, good, dark shadows, love –

All universal;

That, despite the personal,

For I is always you is we

With never objectivity,

But always subjectivity,

Seeing what we need to see.

 

The ‘prize of prizes’ always questioned

While the choosers are sequestered, and

We never know their standard.

 

Be yourself! That’s a command!

You’ll never will, unanimously,

Be a star (though shining brightly),

Idolized by all the masses

(Think of Jesus).

 

You can just write for self alone,

Not cloning some source you admire.

Others will attire you

With clothes of their imagining,

Projecting who and what they are.

Your star will always be you

Till you die and after.

 

It’s Always For Others To Interpret 10.14.2016

Special People, Special Occasions; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene  Corwin

Getting Bored #2

Getting Bored #2

 

I bore so easily.

I play a tune time after time

And have to change it.

Improvising: that’s the name.

Who can do the same life out? We need

To change; we crave variety:

Machines that crave variety;

Nuance, nothing big,

Subtle, slow in coming, but,

If you’ve the talent and the ear,

You hear – extemporizing, winging-it, ad-libbing

All to please your self.

Creatively and on the spot,

You feel you’ve got

To make up something new,

The worn replaced, the boredom quenched,

The freshness making you a chirpy fledgling.

Lose the fear – it’s here to banish.

Clinch the moment,

Let it shunt you to the next

Perplexing phase.

 

Getting Bored 7.20.2013/7.12.2015

Vaguely About Music II; Definitely Didactic; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

It All Depends On The Night 11.18.2014

It All Depends On The Night

 

Monday.

Fix a likely program.

Practice it on Tuesday.

Time it.

What is it I’m aiming for?

Sounds right. Love it.

I’m an artist.

Wednesday.

Play the same twelve tunes.

Ruination.

What is it I’m aiming for?

Too long or short, too fast, too slow

Concept gone, timing off,

The program will be chaos,

Dithering, unsure.   Poor me.

Poor crowd.

Thursday.

Cannot capture feeling.

Will I need some caffeinated push

To give me nerve and verve,

Serve music right? Make me a thrush?

Friday.

Dearie me.

We’ll see

Tonight.

 

It All Depends On The Night 11.18.2014

Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin

 

Exactly On The Stage As Off 9.11.2014

Exactly On The Stage As Off

I would like to be exactly on the stage as off,
Think of everybody there as friend
Who’ll bend to, likes to, wants to
Be engaged by me;
A give and take for maturation.
Always obstacles of sort,
Uneasiness that stops the art
From being free,
Which isn’t fair to them or me –
The freedom multi-leveled;
Just to let it flow, the rest to follow:
That’s what I would like to happen:
Unflappably at one.
But apples of desire stick you in the mire,
Performance up the spout or down the drain.
Look at entertainers,
The biggest in the business;
Fallen on their asses more than once;
Spirits free, their art created constantly,
They keep the flow.
They keep on going.
As for me, just when I think I’m ‘there’,
I can distinctly sink when least expected:
Someone famous in the audience can do it.
Perfectionism, fear of judgment, criticism
Manifesting through the hands, knees, voice…
Fear, the boss.
This year’s resolutions:
Besides a headstand everyday
And shunning vanity
It’s to become exactly on the stage
As off, presuming I’ve an art that’s worth the say.

Exactly On The Stage As Off 9.11.2014 (found on a scrap dated 10.27.2012)
Vaguely About Music II;
Arlene Corwin

When I Sit Down To Sing 9.3.2014

When I Sit Down To Sing

 

When I sit down to sing,

Audience to watch & listen,

I, into the swing of it,

Some great something comes about.

Inner timing takes me over. I go with it.

Tempo has its way with me;

Key becomes another key.

B flat turns into B or C;

Dynamics swell and lower. Nowhere

Has this been constructed.

Each new note a birth, if I allow it;

A new dawning;

Nothing that I can regret in case

I screw it up and fall off the piano bench,

Forget a verse, go blank on chord.

It wouldn’t matter afterward

(In fact it happened once;

I laughed and just kept going)

Process is the thing,

The giving birth that very evening

I never, ever look back…

I just do it.

And I like it

When it’s happening.

And I sit down to sing

People there to watch and listen.

 

When I Sit Down To Sing 9.2.2014 (found on a scrap 12.11.2012)

Vaguely About Music II;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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