I Want to Talk About sax :) Written For Angela Sestito Saxophone, this guy in Vancouver used to play just down the corner from the sky train station. In the morning I had to take the early tram so it was foggy, predawn shade. His callings would bounce off the tall glass buildings, sometimes sounding like whales, sometimes like the quiet chatter of ghost children hiding in the mist. It cuts into you and through you, sometimes hollowing you out and leaving you a vacuous shell of loneliness. But as the orange spotlight of the rising sun bores its way through the cracks between man made mountains, the music lifts. He plays in harmony with the light that ignites the black water puddles into sparkling cauldrons of orange and red fire. His instrument calling out in gratitude to the day with all the magnitude of a Bach symphony an ode to the God of steel, concrete and light. Light that magically sets the street ablaze as it turns the monochrome palette of night into a billion different shades of life. This is it the reason I take the long way in the morning, the reason I leave 45 minutes early, this moment right now. The moment the line of daylight cuts through the last bit of visible night where this horned angel resides. I sit down, light a cigarette and sip of Styrofoam cup coffee and watch with glee and amusement as out of the dark is carved a tall darker image. The veil of fog melts around this striking man tall. 63 Id guess, loose wrinkled skin forming detail into every fold of this Gabriel creature. Skin blacker than cast iron framed the bright white eyes of a man that had lived long and seen much. Now as he stood there in the warmth of the suns full glory. The lonely wolven call turned into a growling bear, slowly lumbering into a frantic run of joy that set my mind a spinning and my soul beckoning to burst forth and dance .. and like every morning before, a last shrill bat like squeal that echoed, no, hung between the towers, never really disappearing but drowned out by the rising traffic,announced the end of my concert. Sometimes at the end of a long day coming home late if I really listened I swear you could still hear it youtu.be/UzMSjX7uE10
Posted on: Tue, 25 Nov 2014 22:55:20 +0000
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