Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body__ breath, and the strings_ wails and moans are echoes of the body__ music. It is the body__ vibrations which ripple from the fingers. And the mystery of the withheld theme, known to jazz musicians alone, is like the mystery of our secret life. We give to others only peripheral improvisations.
The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955
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Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body__ breath, and the strings_ wails and moans are echoes of the body__ music. It is the body__ vibrations which ripple from the fingers. And the mystery of the withheld theme, known to jazz musicians alone, is like the mystery of our secret life. We give to others only peripheral improvisations.
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