WordPlay Wednesday ~It’s Time to Renew & Recharge Your Batteries: Awakening Your Creativity featuring DJ Ezasscul – Looking forward jazzy soul sessions edit

wordplayIII

Life is amazing.  It is even more amazing when our Intention is a mindfulness improvisation,~ not having to think about it, to pick it apart, or even to search for meaning.  Just open your heart and mind ~ be present in every moment.  The beauty of improvisation is constant flux and conversations that are also dynamic in its nature.  Creativity is always evolving and reveals the mysteries of life.  We are constantly renewing and recharging our energy when we get stuck or one particular moment, we lose rhythm, energy and awareness.  Focussing on our breath when things seem to throw us out of balance and rhythm you can quickly regain and recharge your energy by counting ten inhales and exhales.  There are millions of calls coming into our consciousness, we have the ability to choose what our response.  This is a very interesting and enlightening video.  So lay back and let the creativity flow…Peace  & Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3.

I have read and practice everything I could get my hands on by Julia Cameron.  She is truly an innovator that opened a portal to my creativity.   Check it out, Lilou Mace Interview with Julia Cameron shares her tools to develop Spirituality & Creativity

Julia Cameron has had a remarkable career, which in turn has given remarkable help to others. Julia Cameron is an award-winning poet, playwright, and filmmaker. Julia has written thirty books, ranging from her widely-praised, hard-hitting crime novel The Dark Room to her volumes of children’s poems and prayers.

It is a wonderful idea to occasionally treat yourself to a photo or art walk.  It just might open you up to an entire new way of viewing the world.  They are magnificent here in Seattle on the 1st Thursday of every month.

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

 

Tell It Slant Tuesday~Changing the Jazz Cultural Climate circa 1960’s featuring David Sanborn’s “Rikke”

tell it slant tuesday

 

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  Maya Angelou

 

 

NYC Circa 1960

NYC Circa 1960

This is an excerpt from  “Improvising Positions” Chapter in Listening for the Cultural Climate to Change by Jannat Marie…

Since its inception, jazz has suffered a litany of cultural atrocities and was considered lacking in refinement by the upper crust of society in the early 1900’s.  Even when the Jazz Age hit the scene with the Roaring 20’s the Flappers the Establishment or the “Man” felt that women were abandoning their “anointed” role of barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen.  Then the climate changed again during the Civil Rights Movement.  You could cut the culture rage with a butter knife.  In 1965 I learned from Dad and from the rehearsals in the studio that jazz musicians have a way of dealing with adversity or cultural rage with respect and to listen carefully and pay attention to what is going in and around you for me it was “mindfulness”.  They regarded adversity, i.e. racism, discrimination and even painful feelings with the heart of compassion that …something new will always come out of this experience.  It has a lot to do with Faith.  Culturally speaking, jazz is deeply rooted in spiritually grounded beliefs that resonate in Christianity and Buddhism practices.  It is the belief that we will only grow if we allow ourselves to be vulnerably “raw”.  It relates to just taking whatever is causing us pain in that very moment knowing that it will pass and to hold onto a faith – it will become something new.  It is up to us whether we are going to dwell on it critically or as just an occurring non-judgmental phenomenon that has come into our consciousness.  There is a certain power that jazz musicians have and express when they are playing their instruments. They can hold an audience enraptured by the sound and passion of their performance. Those who study music and devote their lives to its pursuit are all too familiar with this phenomenon.

Blues in Black and White

Blues in Black and White

Perhaps an even greater gift that music gives those who play it is a sense of catharsis and release. Jazz anthropology demonstrates that perspective was how improvisation became a constructive way of coping with difficult times.  It is life steeped in conflicts and has weathered each one in turn, evolving in style as a living, breathing acoustic for of change. The art of jazz improvisational style has progressively helped people stand up and face economic, social, or political issues.  Jazz is freedom! The only limitation that Jazz has is the one that you put upon yourself and the situation.

Black and White Photos of Daily Life In NYC

Black and White Photos of Daily Life In NYC

Jazz made me listen more attentively.  It is the same as developing your sensibilities and heart to listen to the silence between the notes.  Jazz is really a conversation that you would carry on between you and a loved one.  It is that special bond you have with a child.  To a painter it is a blank canvas, a writer a blank page that you create the sound the tempo, the staccato of feelings that brings the page alive with imagination, foresight and love but most of all grace.  It is having faith that no matter what life wants to hurl at us, we meet it with everything we got, the game is on and through our experience and sophistication our response to the call is to lean in to get a closer view as we chant…thank you for the hostility, it has been a real pressure.  But, you can’t stop, steal or hurt me because life has taught me that something new is gonna come outta this experience.  And if you think you are gonna reiterate what you just said, than I am gonna wait till the sun goes down because faith has taught well and I am gonna play my heart out until the sound comes true.  In a flash it is over, gone it the brick and making its way down the highway leaving a trail of scented notes. Some people who have not developed a palate or a repertoire of listening library.  On the surface jazz  sounds foreign and a language that we cannot understand, but as with any art, you have to listen and feel what the artist is trying to say.  It is personal, but in a very good way.  That is why when Maya Angelou so eloquently said, coming from that place where she has lived a rich and meaningful life “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  That is what is happening to me.  Leaning in and listening to the world around me and hearing music that only makes sense to me and sharing my thoughts and feelings and conversing with the world at large…Peace and Love Out!  JBC -8) & <3

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Moveable Feast Monday ~ JazzFoodieBytes ~ Macadamia Nut Cheese Raw Vegan Eggplant Lasagna ~Accompanied by Eric Dolphy’s “Something Sweet ~ Something Tender” 1999 Remaster

Movable Feast Monday

I love Moveable Feast Monday mornings because it is my day to kick my week into gear listening to jazz and conjuring up recipes that comfort the soul.   So get your groove on with…M. Dolphy

 

 

Now for the Pièce de résistance!  Bon Appétit! Peace and Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Dictionary Page Art

FreeWrite Friday ~ “Makeup on Empty Space” by Anne Waldman accompanied by Ray Charles & Diana Krall ~ performing “You Don’t Know Me”

Today marks my 1000th post on Tumblr a very close relative of WordPress.  I am so blessed to have the WP family in my life.   So I am in a celebrating this joyous mood and we are going to flash back to my favorite decade…the 60’s.  I remember sitting and watching my mom getting all gussied up for the Grammy Awards in 1966.  This poem captured how mom really felt about wearing make-up.  It began when she was a teenager.  She hated freckles.  Pancake make-up was what all the glamorous actresses and models were wearing.  Her skin was clear, except for the dag gone bloomin’ freckles, yet her skin was so soft to the touch.  Her hazel eyes sparkled as she was putting on her red lipstick.  Red lipstick back in the 60’s was hot and hip.  When I used to get into her make up and costume jewelry I always admired mom of course, but I loved Audrey HepburnFunny Face always comes to mind because it symbolized in its theme and dialogue with Cary Grant and Audrey was the epitome of what mindfulness Improvisation is all about in every shade you can imagine.

I selected Ray Charles and Diana Krall singing a duet as a sort of call and response and play on makeup where the face becomes a blank canvas that is the idea of creating persona’s.  In mom’s case it was completely different from who she really was to me.  Going up we had a public life and a private life.  Being a racially mixed girl it was confusing and difficult to find a place to fit outside of our home on Wilton Place especially my bedroom.  There I was free to create any persona as well as deal with the truth that was happening just outside our front door.  So, how about doing the chores to this tempo and have fun with it.  Peace & Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

Makeup on Empty Space

BY ANNE WALDMAN

I am putting makeup on empty space

all patinas convening on empty space

rouge blushing on empty space

I am putting makeup on empty space

pasting eyelashes on empty space

painting the eyebrows of empty space

piling creams on empty space

painting the phenomenal world

I am hanging ornaments on empty space

gold clips, lacquer combs, plastic hairpins on empty space

I am sticking wire pins into empty space

I pour words over empty space, enthrall the empty space

packing, stuffing jamming empty space

spinning necklaces around empty space

Fancy this, imagine this: painting the phenomenal world

bangles on wrists

pendants hung on empty space

I am putting my memory into empty space

undressing you

hanging the wrinkled clothes on a nail

hanging the green coat on a nail

dancing in the evening it ended with dancing in the evening

I am still thinking about putting makeup on empty space

I want to scare you: the hanging night, the drifting night,

the moaning night, daughter of troubled sleep I want to scare you

you

I bind as far as cold day goes

I bind the power of 20 husky men

I bind the seductive colorful women, all of them

I bind the massive rock

I bind the hanging night, the drifting night, the

moaning night, daughter of troubled sleep

I am binding my debts, I magnetize the phone bill

bind the root of my pointed tongue

I cup my hands in water, splash water on empty space

water drunk by empty space

Look what thoughts will do   Look what words will do

from nothing to the face

from nothing to the root of the tongue

from nothing to speaking of empty space

I bind the ash tree

I bind the yew

I bind the willow

I bind uranium

I bind the uneconomical unrenewable energy of uranium

dash uranium to empty space

I bind the color red I seduce the color red to empty space

I put the sunset in empty space

I take the blue of his eyes and make an offering to empty space

renewable blue

I take the green of everything coming to life, it grows &

climbs into empty space

I put the white of the snow at the foot of empty space

I clasp the yellow of the cat’s eyes sitting in the

black space I clasp them to my heart, empty space

I want the brown of this floor to rise up into empty space

Take the floor apart to find the brown,

bind it up again under spell of empty space

I want to take this old wall apart I am rich in my mind thinking

of this, I am thinking of putting makeup on empty space

Everything crumbles around empty space

the thin dry weed crumbles, the milkweed is blown into empty space

I bind the stars reflected in your eye

from nothing to these typing fingers

from nothing to the legs of the elk

from nothing to the neck of the deer

from nothing to porcelain teeth

from nothing to the fine stand of pine in the forest

I kept it going when I put the water on

when I let the water run

sweeping together in empty space

There is a better way to say empty space

Turn yourself inside out and you might disappear

you have a new definition in empty space

What I like about impermanence is the clash

of my big body with empty space

I am putting the floor back together again

I am rebuilding the wall

I am slapping mortar on bricks

I am fastening the machine together with delicate wire

There is no eternal thread, maybe there is thread of pure gold

I am starting to sing inside about the empty space

there is some new detail every time

I am taping the picture I love so well on the wall:

moonless black night beyond country-plaid curtains

everything illuminated out of empty space

I hang the black linen dress on my body

the hanging night, the drifting night, the moaning night

daughter of troubled sleep

This occurs to me

I hang up a mirror to catch stars, everything occurs to me out in the

night in my skull of empty space

I go outside in starry ice

I build up the house again in memory of empty space

This occurs to me about empty space

that it is nevered to be mentioned again

Fancy this

imagine this

painting the phenomenal world

there’s talk of dressing the body with strange adornments

to remind you of a vow to empty space

there’s talk of the discourse in your mind like a silkworm

I wish to venture into a not-chiseled place

I pour sand on the ground

Objects and vehicles emerge from the fog

the canyon is dangerous tonight

suddenly there are warning lights

The patrol is helpful in the manner of guiding

there is talk of slowing down

there is talk of a feminine deity

I bind her with a briar

I bind with the tooth of a tiger

I bind with my quartz crystal

I magnetize the worlds

I cover myself with jewels

I drink amrita

there is some new detail

there is a spangle on her shoe

there is a stud on her boot

the tires are studded for the difficult climb

I put my hands to my face

I am putting makeup on empty space

I wanted to scare you with the night that scared me

the drifting night, the moaning night

Someone was always intruding to make you forget empty space

you put it all on

you paint your nails

you put on scarves

all the time adorning empty space

Whatever-your-name-is I tell you “empty space”

with your fictions with dancing come around to it

with your funny way of singing come around to it

with your smiling come to it

with your enormous retinue & accumulation come around to it

with your extras come round to it

with your good fortune, with your lazy fortune come round to it

when you look most like a bird, that is the time to come around to it

when you are cheating, come to it

when you are in your anguished head

when you are not sensible

when you are insisting on the

praise from many tongues

It begins with the root of the tongue

it begins with the root of the heart

there is a spinal cord of wind

singing & moaning in empty space

Anne Waldman, “Makeup on Empty Space” from Helping the Dreamer: Selected Poems, 1966-1988. Copyright © 1989 by Anne Waldman. Reprinted with the permission of Coffee House Press, Minneapolis, www.coffeehousepress.com.

Source: Helping the Dreamer: Selected Poems 1966-1988 (Coffee House Press, 1989)

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright © 2011-2014 by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted,  feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and, provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name @ http://jazzybeatchick.com and your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Jazzin’ Thru Thursday ~Mindfulness, Improv and Jazz: The Wow Factor ~ Oh My! Featuring Ballet Dance Jazz J. Company – Mindfulness Meditation Jazz

 

Jazzin' thru Thursday

Jazzin’ thru Thursday

 

I found out you have to study the culture of the music as well in order to learn jazz.” Regina Carter: Improvising A Life In Jazz

 

jazz improv

 

You know you are immensely creative?  No seriously.  Don’t deny it.  Since you were born, you were given the gift to constantly create your reality.  Some of us engage in it more than others.  Sometimes folks tell you that you are not creative or even you don’t consider yourself a creative type well the truth is that you are constantly creating ideas with every breath that you take.  Jazz can teach us about mutual respect, to nurture our own creativity, spontaneity and how we interact with ourselves and one another and accentuates our innate ability to thrive and build our sustainability skills.

Mindfulness is an invitation to become aware of the constant flow of the universe both inner and exterior and gives us the choice to acknowledge it and either get into the rhythm or to choose to let it flow outside in harmony.   When we become aware of ideas from a sense of serenity at the shore of the ocean or stream you are more likely to develop a different perspective and with that insight will see things in the light of all the commotion that is swirling around us.

 

When mindfulness is combined with jazz’s art of improvisation you become engaged in the process of creating thru words, numbers, music, art, or movement you will never get lost in a concept you actually become a part of the process in its purest form of creativity and enlightenment.  Mindfulness allows us to awaken to the world with childlike wonder and amazement giving us the joy to play with new concepts and seeing and being things from a new perspective.  Judgment and critical thinking is set aside for analysis.  Mindfulness is the ability to let things evolve and not interfere.  It allows you to be patient and know that things are about to happen and not having any expectations of how things will turn out.

The Wow Factor according to Collins dictionary is an informal striking or impressive feature that stimulates us to become creative. Information, trends, media, iPod, iPads, Surface tablets, android or smart phones have invaded our space and taken over our ability to rely on our own devices.  I am so much more connected and happier when I turn those devices off.  Check into a good book, not an e-reader, and watch the television with a big ol’ bowl of my homemade Vegan Ice cream with mangos and pineapple and coconut cream and of course in my p.j.’s.

So let’s get into the Jazz – Just follow what Count Basie said to me at a rehearsal for the Newport Jazz Festival in 1967… “It’s the way you play that makes it . . . Play like you play. Play like you think, and then you got it, if you’re going to get it. And whatever you get, that’s you, so that’s your story.”  We are all story’s waiting to be told.  Mindfulness just gets your head back into the process.   There is fullness in every moment filled with possibilities and is unburdened by our expectations.

It’s easy to make mindfulness improve a part of your life. You already have it!  Just close your eyes and remember those moments when you played until your mom or dad had to pry you away.  Losing all sense of time, space, and everything that was outside of the moment you were fully engaged in.  Just go back.  Don’t think it is silly, maybe it is.  So what!  I know when I got the horrible news that I had breast cancer my mind froze.  Then I felt I was thrown into some vortex of fear, denial, loss, anger, betrayal and the fear surrounding death.  I knew in that precise moment that I had to go back to the times that mom and dad came to the tennis courts at my high school at nine o’clock at night to bring me home because it was dark and I was still hitting those iridescent yellow balls against a junior from Northwestern University who was an alumnus of my high school.  That is what being in the Jazz or in full WOW FACTOR MODE is all aboutAre you ready, then gear up, bring whatever suits your fancy ‘cause man this is gonna be out of sight!  See you there, keep looking for the space between the notes or words or artistic expression.  You will see that you are beyond WOW, You are Amazing!  Peace and Love Out!  JBC 8-) and <3  It is like an Oreo, it’s Wonder- filled…

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

WordPlay Wednesday~ The Object of a Jazz Mind on Improv by Jannat Marie (a.k.a. JazZenista) feat. M. Dizzy Gillespie – “A Night in Tunisia”

wordplayIII

 

Jazz Improvisation means that practice is not as straightforward as it would be when you simply have a score to play.” ~ Ahmad Jamal

 

Jazz Trumpet ~Mixed Media collage by Mirel E. Ologeanu

Jazz Trumpet ~Mixed Media collage by Mirel E. Ologeanu

 

It’s over the hump day and it is time to play.  I believe that Jazz and poetry have the same sort of magic when it comes to reaching our emotions.  I wrote this pastiche of Jack Kerouac’s poem How to Meditate.  It struck me differently when I first read it, I would definitely consider it as a Call to my soul and my Response is a Mindfulness Improvisation.  I feel as though this is a way to face our truths without shutting down. Showing us how leaning into our experience, no matter what the consequence.  Not knowing where it will take us or even through it is a matter of time as well as timelessness. Turning away only buries the experience allowing our willingness to become vulnerable and frozen.  It is enabling us to experience both mystery and grace in the same moment!. When my skin begins to tingle, it is a must take that risk unabashedly — just to do it.  When my gut twists and churns it means – pause and marinate in the strife.  Improvisation like life is a moment to moment give it all you got, say it write it play it, live it like this is your only chance to freeze time into a memory.  So as we sit quietly reading the words open yourself to the life coming straight at you. Try to focus on ~Inhaling slowly and steadily counting and inviting the lessons of awakening,,, being changed, and landing into your heart. ~Exhaling slowly, and counting and releasing negative thoughts, emotions and feel yourself revealing the mystery now. ~ Relaxing  allowing and freeing your  heart to be in Your side of the moment.

The Object of a Jazz Mind on Improv

by

Jannat Marie (a.k.a. JazZenista)

I.

Your skin glows like passion fruit blossoms

unhearalded as the freesia in

the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your jazz

voice and leaps like a lion at the whisper of your hallowed name.
The evening ascends in on a great dove’s salacious wing.
I am soothed by your shawl that I carry

into the twilight of lifebeams and hold next to my heart.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of adversity.
As my brain falls from my beret,

it reminds me of your gift of improvisation.
In the hushed, I listen for the last soul of the spring.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for your secret improvisation

so that we may imagine as one, body to soul, in search of the glorious sepia and spiritual mystery

of our side of the moment in love.

 

II.

Sunset ~

fly into the moment

nirvana blankets the pain that resides in the soul of the chorus.

Nerve inside my refrain releasing

the elixir of joy.

Stumbling into the space between the notes

upward progressions to a heavenly phrase.

Capturing serenity and timbre’s

cadence of restlessness dissolving every measure

of sorrowful and tragic riffs.

Gone except the memory of a beloved chorus

a hint of a quarter beat

a dream dances to wingless notes un-sounding

acoustically muted by the maestro upward swing

on down beat imitating a whole life note

cast into the shadows of time

the melody makes a last refrain…

Aha! Striking the chord of disharmony

strangled by another discordant tone ~it remains

released into my solo expressing,

filling a space I will

never hear our moment together ever

~again…

 

As a treat let’s have a look at Jazz Life to see inside an improv moment…Peace & Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

Uploaded on Dec 18, 2011

A musical tribute to jazz — its vibrancy, hybridity, open aesthetic, political progressiveness, and communal spirit. With photos and footage of some of the greats, spanning a century.

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Tell it Slant Tuesday ~A Vast Confusion by Lawrence Ferlinghetti featuring New Age Jazz – In The City

tell it slant tuesday

 

 

Music gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination & charm & gaiety to life.”  ~ Plato

 

 

Mixed Media Fine Arts Gallery Jazz Saxophone Music

Mixed Media Fine Arts Gallery Jazz Saxophone Music

 The reason I love Tell it Slant Tuesdays is that the words present themselves piercing the veil of ignorance and indifference in all its regalia to say nothing else matters but the truth.  It is the day to wash away the dirt of life’s suffering like waves crashing upon our souls to rinse the confusion of our minds and rejuvenate the ocean of our existence bringing happiness to our hearts.  It means to Relax, Breathe and Awaken to what is happening now.  I like to consider it a Mindfulness Improv moment to reclaim the joy and beauty of life as it is.  Not over thinking to the point of being confused, lost and devoid of wisdom.  Give a listen to In the City and feel the words of Ferlinghetti albeit vast in its confusion yet somehow brings peace, clarity and contentment.  That is the secret to living life instead of surviving until the next life event.  What about you, what does Ferlinghetti say to your heart?  Just another Tuesday the day before Wednesday ?  Peace & Love out!  JBC 8-) & <3

A Vast Confusion

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Long long I lay in the sands

Sounds of trains in the surf
in subways of the sea
And an even greater under sound
of a vast confusion in the universe
a rumbling and a roaring
as of some enormous creature turning
under sea and earth
a billion sotto voices murmuring
a vast muttering
a swelling stuttering
in ocean’s speakers
world’s voice-box heard with ear to sand
a shocked echoing
a shocking shouting
of all life’s voices lost in night
And the tape of it
some how running backwards now
through the Moog Synthesizer of time
Chaos unscrambled
back to the first
harmonies
And the first light

 

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

“Moveable Feast Monday” ~ JazzFoodieByte ~Totally OMG Raw Carrot Cupcakes with Orange Vanilla Cream Frosting! Featuring Pivio De Scalzi – “Cook Tail”

Movable Feast Monday

 

“When I play I think of how the phrases move as a dance, or something in nature like a bird or a shooting star. …… “I find my inspiration in myself. ~ Count Basie

I hope you had an awesome week.  There was nothing like my mom’s pineapple upside cake.  I learned how to make carrot cake when I was I was in 7th grade but hands down it could not top mom’s Pineapple Upside Down Cake.  In 1989 I had a Vegetarian friend who lived on Central Park West in a penthouse apartment. in Manhattan who made this a carrot cake without any dairy.  As soon as you hit the hallway the smell made you feel as though you were  entering into Heaven’s bakery.  If the smell didn’t blow you away, the view from the picture window of Central Park sure did!  This is a twist on the Carrot Cake with Tofu Cream Frosting it is awesomely raw!  Peace Out & Love JBC 8-) & <3

Published on Mar 13, 2013

I’ve made FullyRaw Vegan Carrot Cupcakes with Orange Vanilla Cream Frosting just for YOU! Just WAIT until you try these bite size party favors that are absolute PERFECTION!

These desserts are PERFECT to make for any occasion and perfect to share with family, friends, kids, and more! The cupcakes are also perfectly portioned for those who want to keep true to a low-fat raw vegan lifestyle; a few cupcakes meet your requirements for a low-fat day so that you can have your cupcakes and eat them too!

Ingredients for the Carrot Base:
Food Processor
Cupcake Holders/Fillers
Approximately 2-3 Cups of Shredded Carrots (Food Processed)
1.5 Cups (According to You) of Fresh Dates
Half Cup of Walnuts (Less if You Want Lower Fat)
Cinnamon
Fresh Slice of Ginger
Dash of Turmeric

Combine all ingredients in a food processor until the mixture reaches the consistency that you want. I like mine gooey, so I let the machine run for longer. Most will want more of a “bread” type consistency, so don’t let it go for too long as to get the proper texture.

Press this mixture into the cupcake liners and refrigerate. Get ready to make your frosting!

For the Orange Vanilla Créme Frosting:
Approximately 2 Cups Soaked Cashews
1 Cups Pitted Dates
Small Stem or Scrape of Fresh Vanilla
Fresh Squeezed Orange Juice from 2-4 Oranges

Blend in a Vitamix or Ninja Ultimate powerful blender like me!).

This is VERY thick and creamy and may take a while to get perfect!

Spread this frosting onto your cupcakes with a spatula. You can also use a piping bag as shown in the video to apply the frosting on top. If you don’t have a piping bag, you can always cut off the tip of a ziplock bag and apply your beautiful design from there!

Enjoy immensely! Thank you for sharing in my birthday celebration with me! I am so blessed to have you in my life! HUGS!!!

 

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Free Write Fridays ~ Walking Parker Home by Bob Kaufman featuring Charlie Parker – “Everything Happens To Me”

FreeWrite Friday

 

Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom. If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn. They teach you there’s a boundary line to music. But, man, there’s no boundary line to art. ∞ Charlie Parker

 

 

It Is Amazing how the secret habit of jazz living ~“mindfulness improv” is the best way to help you become more successful, calmer, happier, more focused and more connected to others—especially to yourself.  Join the IMAnultimatestudent vibe… Let’s kick this weekend off with Charlie “Bird” Parker sounds and Bob Kaufman’s words…  Peace and Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

Walking Parker Home

by Bob Kaufman

Charlie Parker Courtesy of Pintrest

Charlie Parker Courtesy of Pintrest

Sweet beats of jazz impaled on slivers of wind

Kansas Black Morning/ First Horn Eyes/

Historical sound pictures on New Bird wings

People shouts/ boy alto dreams/ Tomorrow’s

Gold belled pipe of stops and future Blues Times

Lurking Hawkins/ shadows of Lester/ realization

Bronze fingers—brain extensions seeking trapped sounds

Ghetto thoughts/ bandstand courage/ solo flight

Nerve-wracked suspicions of newer songs and doubts

New York alter city/ black tears/ secret disciples

Hammer horn pounding soul marks on unswinging gates

Culture gods/ mob sounds/ visions of spikes

Panic excursions to tribal Jazz wombs and transfusions

Heroin nights of birth/ and soaring/ over boppy new ground.

Smothered rage covering pyramids of notes spontaneously exploding

Cool revelations/ shrill hopes/ beauty speared into greedy ears

Birdland nights on bop mountains, windy saxophone revolutions.

Dayrooms of junk/ and melting walls and circling vultures/

Money cancer/ remembered pain/ terror flights/

Death and indestructible existence

 

In that Jazz corner of life

Wrapped in a mist of sound

His legacy, our Jazz-tinted dawn

Wailing his triumphs of oddly begotten dreams

Inviting the nerveless to feel once more

That fierce dying of humans consumed

In raging fires of Love.

Bob Kaufman, “Walking Parker Home” from Solitudes Crowded with Loneliness. Copyright © 1965 by Bob Kaufman. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.

 

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazzin’ Thru Thursday ~ I am NOT a Breast Cancer SURVIVOR: The Survivor’s Guilt is a Fate worse than death featuring Francesco Santucci – “Last Train to Heaven”

Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops… at all.  ~Emily Dickinson

 

Salvador Dali's Exploded-Head

Salvador Dali’s Exploded-Head

October has been designated as Breast Cancer Month.  Everywhere I have looked over the last 17 years it seems as though folks have been in  denial and use terms like…I AM CURED, SURVIVOR, IT CAN’T COME BACK…blah blah blah ad nauseum.  I realize that I cannot be defined as being a Breast Cancer Survivor ~ I am NOT my breast cancer diagnosis, I am so much more.  Macmillan dictionary defines a Survivor as:  Someone or something that still exists after an event that could have killed or destroyed them; someone or something that still exists after every other member of a group has died or been destroyed;  someone who manages to continue a successful life despite very bad experiences.  Well it doesn’t capture my breast cancer journey nor even touch the quality of life I had with my mother.  It makes the mistaken assumption that I am:  merely existing; or that I still exist after every loved one and other members had died; or have manage to continue a successful life. That would be a big fat NOT!  God brings challenges into our lives to make us stronger and remember those things on the way to living a life of grace.  Here is an excerpt to my memoir, Being Jazz where I the lessons from jazz mindfulness improv truly taught me how to turn adversity into love.

Contrary to popular belief, everyone has the ability to change their circumstance, point of view and/or state of mind.  Now you say She must be tripping….  Well, I was skeptical about the whole change your mind and life thing, too.  Breast cancer was the second adversity that changed that for me.  It made me question what I thought; my beliefs and why I was so unhappy.  Going through chemotherapy I discovered that I wanted to desperately live with music and not die with the noise of surgeries, chemotherapy, loss of my hair and everything I believed made me happy.  That being said, this was by no means something that could change overnight.  It meant to go back to my fondest memories.  I had to get rid of all of my attachments and material things because quite honestly, they didn’t mean much.  Dad died six years earlier and mom’s cancer returned after so many years.  It was just us.  My friends found it hard to talk to me.  They simply didn’t know what to do or say.  At the time, I was angry and frustrated about everything.  I wanted to give up.  It began in November of 2000.  I was having reconstructive surgery. Here’s an excerpt from Being Jazz that became my major Aha! Moment…

“It was Thursday, November 30th, 2000, I was 46 years old.  A week after Thanksgiving, this was going to be my big Reconstructive Surgery Day.  It was my attempt to make up for all of the losses and the ravages that resulted from the traumatic complications from my bilateral mastectomy.   Life, as I knew it six months before today, would be restored.  I wanted to believe that life was the space between the notes and would free me from the exiled island where I had come to live.  Today, I realize that every breath I take is the space between the notes in a melody that is fueled by God’s love and grace.  I learned that surrendering, accepting and embracing everything that has happened in my “so called perfect life” for example, … in 1990 being — completely paralyzed from Guillain-Barré Syndrome; my father’s death in 1994; my mom’s return of cancer that was terminal in 1997; my breast cancer diagnosis on April 14, 2000 (ironically on my father’s birthday); my bilateral mastectomy in June 2000 with all of its complications followed by my chemotherapy with all of its’ dreadful side effects in July,2000; my reconstructive surgery November of 2000 and finally the loss of my career as a successful paralegal after 20 years. Yes, today   is going to be my day; I get the chance to make things right with my soul and universe within.  I hoped that it was not just an illusion.?

The downside is that it is easy to get lost in the maze of traditional medicine and living a life that is not based on quality.  There is a sense of apathy and a sinking feeling that as long as you ain’t in the acute phase then there is nothing to worry about.  Somehow that creeps the hell out of me.   Mom survived six years when the Oncologist  predicted she would only live a year and a half to two years.  We fought the good fight and when I was at the threshold of the “Last Exit” and my reconstructive surgery failed and on the way into back into the O.R. my mother told them to ignore my DNR and when I asked her why she said…”It is not your time yet!  I surrendered and she even though which resulted in having ten  subsequent painful ambulatory surgeries because the graft failed.   Jazz served as my way of escape because just before I went the anesthetic  my father’s CD was playing in the OR.  It brought back the happiest times of my life.  Jazz has its own code for living.  Words are the reflection of what is going on inside you and I have discovered from Carlos Castaneda that we must be impeccable in our word choices.  So for me Survivor is OUT and Living with Breast Cancer [livingwithbreastcancer.org] is IN and a more appropriate term.  What do you think?  Are you existing as a survivor or are you learning to dance on life’s shores of living the life that is waiting for you?  I hope you dance…Peace & Love Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Word Play Wednesday…Here’s The Only Way Left For Regular Guys/Gals Like You And Me To Listen 2 ur life as a Portal to Self Discovery and Expression using Mindfulness Improv to turn Adversity into Love feat. RelaxingRecords – Smooth Jazz Evening – Brain Music

wordplayIII

My year of living musically focused on the ability to listen to discern one style from another.  There are specific characteristics that can allow you to search for the truth in our hearts and through self-expression that bring us closer.  Listening intentionally make those sounds come true.  Hearing is the foyer to listening in the parlor, where self-analysis leads to a better understanding of yourself and others.  I had a conversation the other day and it felt as though they were not listening.  I could tell from the questions they asked.  Hearing has become commonplace and superficial in its nature.  Your voice is not heard because of the weeds that grow out of only hearing, and not engaging.  It is a symphony of cacophony.  The sounds at the end of the day left me feeling barren and alone.  I befriended my voice in my head, only to hear how sterile and contrived life had become.  It was a conspiracy of nay-sayers that can bring only darkness to the light.  Hard hearted they come and crowd my voice separating me from my soul.  On the bright side it is only temporary and you can turn things around in any given moment.

Hearing is illusion personified by benign neglect.  Reading aloud in a language you cannot understand.   To have ears, that had become defended by the madness and noise of society.  Let’s Play

 “Listening”

Jannat Marie

His cadence moved me.

tonality and voicing askew

began as a thought.

Timing in one note

A picture in a thousand words

Reveals culture’s rage

emerged over time “freeing” the beat

flavored by emotional riffs

hearing in the seasoning thyme

Tasting memories

hot crusted timbre sings

crying out for freedom

Feeling the sounds in the sun

seeing a warm moist noise of forgiveness

Hearing life’s rhythm in 4/4 time

senses filled with harmony

where meeting counterpoint to point

at the synergy of knowing

equality of rights anoint

Dancing in darkness

becomes a conspiracy of the truth.

 

So jazz does not have to be an acquired taste.  I began listening to jazz in my mother’s womb.  Dad took me to rehearsals and recording of the Monterey Jazz Festival Orchestra when I was nine years old and I became a fan instantly.  Transforming the sounds to words and art I felt inside.  I had fallen in love with sound and words.  Dad taught the basics about jazz music and the musicians form of self expression and improvisation.  It will enhance your listening experience immensely.  So, lean back, open your mind and heart as we begin our wonderful process of exploring jazz terrains and vistas.  Peace Out!

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artisthttp://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Tell it Slant Tuesday ~ Listening to the Fog of Breast Cancer featuring Gil Fuller & Monterey Jazz Festival – Moontide – Feat. Dizzy Gillespie

Cancer is messy and scary. You throw everything at it, but don’t forget to throw love at it. It turns out that might be the best weapon of all.  ~ Regina Brett

Jose-Roosevelt-surrealist-painter-10

Jose-Roosevelt-surrealist-painter-10

One of the perks of dying from Stage II Breast Cancer and recurrent and intermittent autoimmune neuropathy (aka MS) , is that you have time to write the letter to your loved one because now seeing the “Last Exit” is opening for you; you realize that timing is only relative. So Mom, these are words I wished I’d said to you on Mother’s Day in 2003 but succumbed to the silence and never took the chance.  This is to say…Fair Winds and Following Seas…

I can still see you standing at the prelude of light.  Staring out of the window at the heavens, you looked so lost in thought.  Your stature melting away by the ravages of breast cancer’s plight.  We were losing ground, loosing tone, losing time, most of all losing the measure of our life.   Memories of laughter, the bond we had that will never be broken.  Mom can you hear me? I cried out.  Now knowing those melodic years have taken flight.  You taught me about the world of words and that I needed to love in order to be free.  To remember, even though I had to keep it a secret from dad to continue to write and paint.  Your everlasting love would allow me to truly see.  You have mended my heart when the shards of hurtful words and shattered dreams reside in my soul.  To keep on keeping on till the jazz of my life takes control.  Shaping the hopes for tomorrow will forever remain.

Woman Sitting Alone

Woman Sitting Alone

It will be a decade without our time together on May 10th 2013.  Now my memories of you have changed through the perfect storms of my life.  May has become the longest month of the year. Oh how I miss you on Mother’s Day when everywhere I turn you are no longer there.  Writing has become necessary for me to breathe.  I have so many memories when I was six and nobody came to my birthday party, you came into my room wiping my tears.  You flopped back and we made imaginary angels a top my canopied pink art deco bedspread.  Or the time we went to the shores of Annapolis, Maryland and you got on a bike and came whizzing by me asking how to stop.  I didn’t want to scare you so I told you to gently squeeze the hand brakes, but it was too late and you went sailing into the rocky dirt at the end of the trail.  We went to the hospital and they wrapped up your leg, and you made me swear to keep it a secret from dad because you knew he would get upset.  How about the times we went to the mall with twenty bucks between us and you spending all your money to buy me books and writing tablets.  We even tempered the timbre of dad’s death the day after your birthday on May 26th 1994.

Surreal Last Exit

My fondest memories are of when I kept my promise to take care of you when your cancer came back in 1997.  We fought together cheating death at every turn.  Finding out I inherited breast cancer three years later and going back into life saving surgery after 16 long hours, not wanting to go on and you telling me NO.  You told me it is not my time that my time is to spend it with you.  Your love brought me back to the most blessed life imagined.  Even when you had your stroke and could no longer communicate, you gave me the chance to discover no matter what, we were in it for ever.  Mom, our CODA will never have an ending.  Because the verses of my life are found in those memories, I will continue to keep on keeping on because I have to.  Do you have an comment about breast cancer to share?  There is strength in numbers.  You have the floor!   (Excerpt from my Memoir Being Jazz)

Abstract Philosophy Art Paintings

And now for the “pièce de résistance. ”  I wish you Kindness and Love because they are ftrue fruits of the Spirit. The more kindness and love we show other people, the more we are in harmony with the universe and God. When we seek to love and do good to one another, we will reap goodness in our own lives in return.  Perhaps Mindfulness Improv should be included as one of the fruits of the Spirit.  Peace Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

 

 

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Moveable Feast Monday ~JazzFoodie Bytes ~Rockin’ with Raw Zucchini Pasta and Meatballs featuring Dizzy Gillespie’ds– “Manteca”

Movable Feast Monday

One of the best features of jazz living always involves having jazz playing in the living room when planning meals and menus that promotes wellness and sustainability especially when times are hard and cost of food continues to rise.  That being said, in the Manteca Backstory the video of the live performance but this version will awaken your visual and acoustic sensibilities. For this post I just wanted to bring the cool acoustic vibes and Dizzy’s signature horn sound in concert with Afro Cuban rhythms that will set the tone for a party of one or just a party of your closest friends and family.  Holiday season is just around the corner and pot lucks will abound. No worries I will continue to find or create healthy delicious recipes under the category Jazz Bytes.  So let’s get back to today’s dish.  Mind you this pasta ain’t your nona’s recipe – but it’s also way better for you. Add in some amazing sauce and raw vegan “meatballs” and you’ve got yourself a meal. I am willing to admit that the first time I made alone.  I  usually make this dish for New Year’s to kick off things with a different beat! Bon Appétit! With Love & Peace Out …JBC <3 & -8)

Raw Zucchini Pasta and Meatballs Recipe

In The Mix

Pasta:
3-4 zucchini squash
½ t salt

Meatballs:
4 cups Portobello mushrooms, roughly chopped
1 cup walnuts, soaked overnight
½ yellow onion, chopped
1 clove garlic
1 T apple cider vinegar
¼ cup parsley
2 t cumin
1 T Nama Shoyu
½ t salt

Marinara sauce:
1 cup Brazil nuts, (I use raw Cashews they are easy to find here in Seattle) soaked overnight
1 cup sun-dried tomatoes, soaked overnight
1 medium tomato
3 T lemon juice
3 T olive oil
1 T agave nectar
1 t red pepper flakes
1½ t salt

Puttin’ things all together:

♪      Spiralize or use a mandolin*, or a peeler shave zucchini into noodles. Toss with ½ t of salt and set aside in a colander to drain. *I use a mandolin and then I lay the zucchini flat in a stack and thinly (linguine size) slice through.  I don’t peel the skin, just scrub it clean of debris and it looks festive.

♪      Drain walnuts and add all meatball ingredients (except the Portobello mushrooms) to the food processor and blend, then add Portobello mushrooms and blend for a few pulses.

♪      Roll meatballs into balls, place in dehydrator overnight or in the oven on parchment paper for about 1-2 hours at 200F, depending on your oven’s temperature.

♪      Drain Brazil (Cashew) nuts and sundried tomatoes and add all sauce ingredients to food processor. Blend. Set aside in a bowl.

Assemble everything on a plate. Now it’s time to let your creative spirit soar.  Let your inner culinary artist free.  This is the part that puts my signature onto the plate

Credit Recipe: Laura Miller

Here is the video for you folks, like me like to see what it should look like…

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Free Write Friday ~ RiffShot ~ The “Manteca” Backstory

FreeWrite Friday        On September 29th, 1947,   “Manteca” dropped into the jazz scene at Carnegie Hall  it was a hit!  Manteca literally means lard.  It is an Afro-Cuban slang term for marijuana.  Mario Bauzá‘s “Tanga” (1942), was also an Afro-Cuban term for marijuana.  Mainstream jazz audiences at that time were not familiar with the Afro Cuban sound and improvisations of Machito’s band.  Gillespie,  as with most musicians at the time would jam and the cultural exchange was fluid and became alliterations of cultural and rhythmic sounds coined cu-bop.  The song became a two-part tune dubbed “Cubana-Be/Cubana-Bop”. In the Spring of 1948, the band took the spotlight with”Manteca” with the inclusion of Pozo’s Abakuá chants which opens the song when it was being performed.

 

Copyrighted  phrase written by Gil Fuller

Copyrighted phrase written by Gil Fuller

Manteca” in 1947 was considered by critics to be one of the earliest groundbreaking tunes of Afro-Cuban jazz.  Chano Pozo sung the tune at a rehearsal in 1947 because Pozo did not write music.  Big band arranger Walter “Gil” Fuller in 1947 wrote the arrangement that reshaped and created Gillespie’s signature style making the recordingsas the most legendary jazz orchestrations.  According to Gary Giddins of the Village Voice, Manteca” in addition to “A Night in Tunisia” also arranged by Fuller became,  “one of the most important records ever made in the United States“.   “Manteca” was the first rhythmically established song performed on the clave rhythmic pattern used  as a tool for temporal orchestrations that became an American jazz standard.

 

Dizzy Gillespie ~ This is how I remember him!  Courtesy of  http://dialogosdosubsolo.blogspot.com/

In 1947, Gillespie asked Mario Bauzá to recommend a Cuban percussionist for his big band. Bauzá suggested Pozo, a rough-living percussionist already famous in Cuba.  When the band was touring in California Pozo presented Gillespie  and Fuller with an idea for the melody.  Fuller integrated Pozo’s Cuban-style percussion into the band’s arrangement.    It featured a bridge of two eight-bar trumpet vocalization by Gillespie melding the percussive patterns played by Pozo, amalgamating the horn lines by Gillespie’s.  You can see in the video that they are really groovin’ to the rhythm and improvising solos that make for one great sound and fun for everyone.  Manteca reflected the racial tensions and unrest in America, especially Los Angeles. You can see and hear Gillespie singing, “I’ll never go back to Georgia“.   In 1965, the Joe Cuba Sextet got their first crossover hit with the Latin and soul fusion of “El Pito (I Never Go Back To Georgia)”.  I hope that you enjoy this video as much as I do.  Peace and Love Out!  JBC  8-) & <3

Uploaded on Dec 19, 2011

Chano Pozo was the brother of the famous trumpeter Felix Chapotín admirer of Rita Montaner, and magnet public broadcasting station Radio Cadena Azul. In the forties, Chano Pozo, the Cuban American jazz injected a new and vigorous energy, thanks to the vision of the musician Mario Bauza. He worked with figures like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, Dizzy when being popularized the familiar theme of Manteca. The brilliant career of Chano Pozo, the United States began in 1942, when he left the Machito Orchestra, Chicago to join in to all the Jack Cole Dancers. Manteca was released in the jazz world in 1947, during the presentation of a big band in the name of Pozo and Gillespie. At that concert involved two other glories of world jazz, pianist John Lewis, who later would found the Modern Jazz Quartet, and drummer Kenny Clarke, one of the fathers of Bebop. In Caliente, one of the great compositions of Chano Pozo, Delannoy remember Chano style gradually Gillespie led to increasingly running musical risks, which resulted in a perfect fusion of a genius of jazz harmony with a genius . the Afro-Cuban rhythms. Courtesy of cesarchalon

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Jazzin’ Thru Thursday ~ ~ The World Is a Beautiful Place by Lawrence Ferlinghetti featuring Silvia Manco –”Please”

Jazzin' thru Thursday

Jazzin’ thru Thursday

Jazzin’ Thru Thursday features the different shades of Jazz.  It highlights, literary, acoustic and visual snaps of life in and out of time.  It is a beautiful world when there is so much to experience and living in the moment and seeing all of the beauty that resides in our hearts and how it comes out in so many forms of expression.  I just wonder sometimes if we could forget about the challenges and worries for a spell and let our eyes see, hear and feel the intensity of our life in full bloom expressing what we can imagine and to put it down on a canvas in terms of endearment and mystery. I believe that living in the moment is like absolute freedom.  Where people do not judge, classify or worry about anything because we are on a wave that reaches down to our core and touches the heavens.  Mindfulness comes in the simplest ways.  We just need to let things go, and let things come to lift our hearts and dance to the rhythm that is free to take us to the edge of life’s universe.  These artistic expressions do just that for me.  Peace & Love Out!  JBC 8-) <3

Sunlight plays with nature

The World Is a Beautiful Place

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti 

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don’t mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don’t mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don’t sing
all the time

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don’t mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn’t half bad
if it isn’t you

Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don’t much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen

and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to

Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
‘living it up’
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling

mortician

 

 

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

”‘WordPlay Wednesday”

 

wordplayIII

 

In Jazz a  call and response is a succession of two distinct phrases usually played by different musicians, where the second phrase is heard as a direct commentary on or response to the first. It corresponds to the call-and-response pattern in human communication and is found as a basic element of musical form, such as verse-chorus form, in many traditions. This blog will represent The Call will be Buddhist thought or koan or poem and the Response will be Memorable Jazz quotes or sayings or Poet’s Beat or just having a way with.words…Have a great day!  Peace & Love Out!  JBC 8-) <3

The Call:

 

On life’s journey
Faith is nourishment,
Virtuous deeds are a shelter,
Wisdom is the light by day and
Right mindfulness is the protection by night.
If a man lives a pure life nothing can destroy him;
If he has conquered greed nothing can limit his freedom.

Buddha
The Response:

 

Louis Armstrong

“What we play is life.”

“You blows who you is.”

“If ya ain’t got it in ya, ya can’t blow it out.”

“Never play anything the same way twice.”

“Man, if you have to ask what it [jazz] is, you’ll never know.”

“All music is folk music, I ain’t never heard no horse sing a song.”

“My whole life, my whole soul, my whole spirit is to blow that horn…”

“There is only two kinds of music, the good and the bad. I play the good kind.”

“If I don’t practice for a day, I know it. If I don’t practice for two days, the critics know it. And if I don’t practice for three days, the public knows it.”

“The memory of things gone is important to a jazz musician. Things like old folks singing in the moonlight in the back yard on a hot night or something said long ago.”

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Tell it Slant Tuesday ~ Fifty Years Under the Influence “Jack Kerouac” and “the Beats” is a Lie! Accompanied by David Chesky – “Transcendental Tripping” feat. Billy Drummond, Javon Jackson, Jermey Pelt & Peter Washington

For a movement that was all about the “now”, the Beats have had a pretty good run on a self=serving, drug induced coma like ideology that, when getting a closer look is counter intuitive to the life he lived and wrote about.  It has been over 50 years since Jack Kerouac published his first novel, “The Town and the City” where he identified the sub counterculture  the “Beat Generation.”  Unfortunately he left out the essence and most vital feature of the  ”Counterculture Movement.  That includes  Jazz, Black People, Women and Well, Pretty Much Everything Else in and out of time.

 

Kerouac Courtesy of itstartswithindotcom

Kerouac Courtesy of itstartswithindotcom

The Beat industry kicked into overdrive on and off since Kerouac’s death. His On the Road is considered the “Holy Grail” of the Beats.  It is a jumble of car journeys, joints and jazz that had already skipped over an entire musical genre before its publication in 1957. It continued to spiral out of control and moved further  from its original context from which it was conceived.   The movie became popular a few years ago however, it was popularized for reasons completely different from what it was intended.  The generation that embraced it was iconoclastic in its experience and understanding of the Civil Rights movement and further perpetuates a “feeling good and cool” which is not grounded in anything but a Selfie imagining being a selfie in a selfless world.

First Space Selfie Courtesy of Pinterest

First Space Selfie Courtesy of Pinterest

Fortunately for its reputation, On the Road is not a book many people would want to read once or even twice.   I barely could get into what he was trying to get across.  Sort of like being the “James Dean” of the writer set in terms of a rebel without a cause or the uncause of the counter culture of the Beatnicks.  It is reported to have been written in three weeks – at tell it slant, but there is no truths not even a message.  It seems to come across as being pretentious, superlative and nauseatingly repetitive and logy.  I can’t figure out why everyone seems to be suffering from withdrawal and was crying out the word “sad”.  Maybe that is the Selfie.  However, there is a big problem with the book on its face.  The egregious treatment of women  — none of whom were depicted as having an intelligent thought.  This sensibility continues into the racial realm, if you lived in the ‘50’s or the early 60’s you know that wanting to be Black from a white suburban youth’s perspective was non existent and simply a fabrication that is so very far from the truth.  It is believed that this insensitive, shallow and false personification non extant POV  is what formed the basis of Norman Mailer’s ponderous 1957 essay The White Negro, which was allegedly inspired by Kerourac’s Beat example. “In the worst of perversion, promiscuity, pimpery, drug addiction, rape, razor-slash bottle-break, what-have-you,” Mailer opined, “the Negro discovered and elaborated a morality of the bottom…”  This seems to be some misguided, misrepresented and an inaccurate account that had become typical for adversities of racial unrest, discrimination, chauvinism and supremacy that insticated the Civil Rights Movement in America.  Jazz is an American art form that inspired genius such as Ellington’s Shakespeare suite

Designers and Labels of the 1950's

Designers and Labels of the 1950’s

Miles Davis’ music score for Louis Malle’s film Ascenseur pour L’echafaud.  Unfortunately to Mailer, Kerouac and the Beats jazz was about drugs, alcohol and incoherency.   This misunderstanding of jazz, Blacks, Women basically American life accounts for the focal problem of what the Beats were really about.  Nothing!  That has got to change and there is no time like the present to set things right.  I’ve been there and to a large extent, still am, but I am about to set the Jazz world on fire because I have been immersed in the Jazz culture all of my life and have had the opportunity to see Jazz differently.  Being Jazz has become a truth that through mindfulness improv meditation, has brought the truth into the light and let the falsehoods and lies remain in the shadows because it does nothing when it comes to serving the American Culture and the world for that matter.  It is time to be awakened to our differences and not feared and demeaned by them.  Peace and Love,  JBC 8-) and <3.

The Torah teaches  You shall do no injustice in judgment...

The Torah teaches You shall do no injustice in judgment…

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Movable Feast Monday ~ JazzFoodie Bytes ~Awesome “Roasted Winter Vegetable Jambalaya” Accompanied by Kenny Barron – “In The Meantime”

Roasted Winter Vegetable Jambala with garden grown root veggies.  Courtesy a la pinterest.com

Roasted Winter Vegetable Jambalaya with garden grown root veggies. Courtesy a la pinterest.com

I started cooking when I was in the 7th grade in Los Angeles when I signed up for Home Economics and Woodworking.  Growing up with my father meant we were always in some sort of class, on Saturday’s I remember sitting at the white marble table in our family room with my brother and my father bringing in electronic parts so we could either build an oscillator or on this particular Saturday, we built a Crystal Radio.  My father had remodeled our house on Wilton place which was basically an eleven room house.  Entertaining was a large part of the LA scene.  So when I came home elated that I mastered “White Sauce” on the stove.  My father thought it was only fitting that he get the Time Life World Recipe Cookbooks with pictures you would salivate just looking at them.  My father was the real cook in the house.  So he not only taught me how to cook Jambalaya the authentic way.  Cancer has taught me the value of not compromising the taste for good healthy foods that not only sustains you but promotes wellness and thriving.  So my Jazz foodie comrades here is a version that you will not only enjoy but, meat lovers will find it a tasty repast.  Now things would not be proper if you didn’t add the sounds,,, So let’s get to it….

Awesome “Roasted Winter Vegetable Jambalaya”

Ingredients:

I.

1 c                   diced yellow and red onion

½ c                  seeded and diced green pepper

1 stalk             celery with leaves finely chopped

3-5 clove       Garlic  minced

¼ tsp.                         chili powder

¼ tsp.             cayenne

Sea Salt 2 taste

3 tbl.               EVOO + 1 tbl  Coconut oil

¾ c      Glenn Muir chopped canned tomatoes w/juice

1 tbl.   Tomato Paste

 

1 c       brown rice (my favorite is “Easy Cooking Whole Grain Brown Rice Suoyhaka Genmai”  rinsed and soaked overnight and strained for1 hour before cooking.

3 c       Homemade Vegetable Broth

 

II.

Roasted Vegetables

 

1 c       peeled and diced carrots

1 c       peeled and diced golden beets

1 c       peeled and diced parsnips

1 c       peeled and diced Yukon Gold potatoes

1 c       peeled and diced white sweet potatoes

½ c      baby portabella mushrooms

 

III.

 

Garnish

½ c      fresh chopped cilantro

½ c      scallions with green tops finely chopped

 

Sauté onion, paprika, red pepper, chili powder, etc. in I for 5 min add brown rice

and sauté until smell the nutty aroma mix in diced tomatoes and tomato paste and stir for 3 to 5 minutes.   Remove and set aside.

 

  1. Roast vegetables on foil or parchment paper. Mix all vegetables in a bowl with EVOO, Creole seasoning and spread evenly in a shallow pan.  Dust with pepper.

Roast for 40 to 45 minutes.

 

Bring rice mixture back onto the burner.  Heat the vegetable broth to light boil and turn on rice mixture and pour broth into Dutch oven.  Add the roasted veggies and mix very well with wooden spoon.  Turn heat to low medium to light simmer, cover and cook for approximately 45 minutes  remove from stove leave lid on and let stand and steam for 10 minutes more.  I prefer to use the same pot for that down home feel, you may want to use your favorite serving dish.  Now it is time to put the Garnish of cilantro and green onions (scallions) .  Serve  with greens or simple salad, French garlic bread and I like sweet green tea, but, wine or beer works.  Perfect for football, soccer or even tennis matches.  I like to have a light dessert like sorbet and fresh fruit.  Pipe in the sound for a nice ambiance and Bon Appétit.  Peace & Love!  JBC 8-) <3

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Free Write Friday ~ Takin’ a Trip Down Memory Lane “These Times Are A Changin'” featuring Chicago Jazz Philharmonic – The Face of the Enemy Is Always Changing

“If Music is a Place — then Jazz is the City, Folk is the Wilderness, Rock is the Road, Classical is a Temple.”
― Vera Nazarian

Abstract Art Inspired by Music Courtesy of Bertiehigghns.com

Abstract Art Inspired by Music Courtesy of Bertiehigghns.com

The only constant in life is change.  I have decided to take a trip down memory lane in the way back machine.  Dad let me digress from listening to jazz on my  Mickey Mouse Record Player that he bought me and would let me buy Bob Dylan, among other folk singers, like Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Rita Coolidge Carly Simon, Carol King and Joni Mitchell to name a few..  I wasn’t so much a Hippie ‘cause multiracial folks was not even a category in that LA Black and White society.  1965 changed so many things on so many fronts.  Here are the lyrics to this powerful timeless song  These Times are a Changin’  you can watch the video.  I thought that “The Face of the Enemy Is Always Changing” in the present moment is way more fitting.  FYI ~  It was a year and eight months before the Watts riots and the Civil Rights Movement and the moment that life in America would undergo a Cultural Revolution.  Can You Feel it?   Peace and Love Out!  JBC 8-) <3.

These Times are a Changin’

Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who
That it’s namin’
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one
If you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin’
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’.

These were the best of times and the worst of times growing up in L.A.   Here are highlights that I remember for that year.  Beetles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show February 9th, 1964.  Jazz musicians dealt with those times with humor with stunts like:  When Dizzy Gillespie ran for president promising to rename the White House “the Blues House” and would appoint Ray Charles librarian of Congress, Miles Davis head of the CIA, and Malcolm X attorney general.  The miniskirt debuted that signaled a rapid change in the mores of the decade.  It was a tumultuous time for race relations which was about to hit the fan.  I was only feeling the tension that was becoming so thick you could cut it with a knife.  Peace Out!

© Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz Bytes ~ “A Movable Feast of Raw Vegan and “Vegan’ish” Dishes ~ An Awesome Mushroom Nut Loaf featuring Jimmy Rushing – Hello Little Girl

Welcome to “A Movable Feast of Raw Vegan and “Veganish” from the Secret Habits of A Jazz Foodie Entertaining and Recipe Collection for Sustainability and Wellness”

Mens Bar - Plaza Hotel New York City (Back in the day)

Mens Bar – Plaza Hotel New York City (Back in the day)

Last year I launched a Holiday on the Side feature from my Jazz Byte Collection.  I am pleased to say, We got game this year!  So for all of my Foodie and Foodie’ish’ friends I am going to give sample menus and entertaining anecdotes from Back in the Day that will include cuisine from my father’s side of the family that came from an island in the Indian Ocean called “Reunion”  right of the coast of Madagascar.  My mom’s side of the family came from New York state giving me roots from the Seneca Nation more specifically Iroquois.  So we are gonna gear up to head toward exotic and intoxicating terrains in vista from Mediterranean, North African, Native American and everywhere else in between.  Just give you a taste…Apple Soup, Chana Marsala with Green Chili and Mango Rice; Raw Spinach Manicotti and can’t forget the Gumbo; and an amazing Cashew Soup.  The recipes range from quick to relatively complex requiring basic equipment and skill.  I have sensory memories and can recall dishes in my head.  Kinda scary I know but works for me!

I am a true blue foodie to the core.  I learned how to cook in my 7th grade Home Economics class in Los Angeles.  When I got home, I asked my mom if I could help with dinner.  Mom didn’t like to cook because growing up in the fifties when my grandmother did all the cooking and only allowed mom to bake desserts.  Dad commented Your mom had a recipe box which I quickly opened to find baking stuff.  Marian where are the recipes for food?  Mom shot a glance You know that my mom did not allow me to cook, but baking was okay.  Their first Thanksgiving was a disaster!  Mom did not let it thaw and did not remove the package of neck bones, liver, etc.  She put it into the oven and after six hours removed it from the oven and it was raw.  So, dad did most of the cooking and taught me how to cook.  He bought the full Time Life Cuisine from Around the World series.  I learned to cook, Greek/Mediterranean. Italian, JapaneseCantoneseFrench you name it, I cooked it.  I can remember the smells evaporating and infusing the sound of jazz with the sensual smells coming from the kitchen.  Mom set the table, dad and my brother sat down with a knife in the left hand and fork in the right hand with the napkin tucked into their collars proclaiming…Where are we going tonight?  How about you, do you have a favorite memory of cooking?  These posts will not only change our sensibilities’ in way we see, taste and groove and entertain.  This is something that even meat lovers will enjoy!  Bon Appétit!   Peace and Love JBC 8-) <3   Here are the Sounds to entertain by:

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Riffshot to A Poet’s Beat ~ Excerpt from Memoir featuring “Song of the Open Road” by Walt Whitman Acoustic ambiance by The Rippingtons – “Pastels On Canvas”

Excerpt from Memoir…

I am the daughter of a 60s Jazz arranger/conductor where the reining tradition was “rents had the final word”.    I would hole up in my room for hours overhearing myself admit difficult truths that I could not hide from.  It welcomed creative inspirations into my sensory consciousness.    It gave me the chance to explore and discover the province of sound and words.   I found my rhythm. Mom taught me how to read when I was 3.  I was eleven years old when I had fallen in love with sound, art and most of all words.  Dad throughout all of the civil rights Tsunami did not faze him because he was driven to do the best on all levels for the upcoming Festival.  I followed suit in my own little way.  I survived by living in disguise. Since I was very young, the sanctity of my bedroom provided a canvas where I hoped, dreamed, set my own values and aspirations.  When I left my room I had to leave them behind like my books and other treasures tucked away on a shelf nestled in the opposite corner of the room.  I knew that Dad loved me, not without surrendering and bartering my own thoughts and feelings when he told me what I was supposed to want.  Dad repeatedly drummed into me that …being a doctor is where it’s at.  My foray into the jazz world began when I could feel my father intensity and determination of each note I mirrored in words at my desk.  I discovered and accepted the gifts and talents that Grandpa used to tell me… were gifts God gave me.  I let go of my family “persona”  free to let my imagination come alive and tap into my personal sense of purpose and who I really am.  Early mornings I would lie in bed hearing the music climb the stairs, it had a purpose, it had an intent – it was harmonic, it had a rhythm that grabbed my heart and rendered the beats to prepare me to go to my desk open my curtains and let the burst of the morning gently touch my face.  Jazz was transformative.  I was paralyzed by the feeling of losing my father’s love if I chose to follow my star.  I needed for him to tell me things would be okay.  That he would help me, encourage me, teach me the way things are in the world I was living.  How did he do it?  Every time I tried to step out of the role he was created in the song for me, he would resist.  So I would withdraw and try to convince myself that he knows what’s best for me.  I was so conflicted when he would teach me how to sight sing music, take me to his rehearsals and ask what instrument I wanted to learn how to play.  There were definitely rules of conduct and engagement with others.  There were two distinct behaviors, one associated with our home and private life and the one associated with our public life.  I spent most of the time in my room.  There the only rule was to be myself…. So here we go…

Just for today, I wanted to share poem that I read when I was eleven years old that somehow transformed my life…Hope you enjoy a mindfulness improv moment in jazz…Peace Out & Love JBC 8-) <3.

 

Song of the Open Road

BY WALT WHITMAN

1

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

 

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,

Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,

Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,

Strong and content I travel the open road.

 

The earth, that is sufficient,

I do not want the constellations any nearer,

I know they are very well where they are,

I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

 

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,

I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,

I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,

I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.)

 

2

You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here,

I believe that much unseen is also here.

 

Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial,

The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas’d, the illiterate person, are not denied;

The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar’s tramp, the drunkard’s stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,

The escaped youth, the rich person’s carriage, the fop, the eloping couple,

 

The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the town, the return back from the town,

They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted,

None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.

 

3

You air that serves me with breath to speak!

You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!

You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!

You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!

I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.

 

You flagg’d walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!

You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined sides! you distant ships!

 

You rows of houses! you window-pierc’d façades! you roofs!

You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!

You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!

You doors and ascending steps! you arches!

You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!

From all that has touch’d you I believe you have imparted to yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,

From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.

 

4

The earth expanding right hand and left hand,

The picture alive, every part in its best light,

The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,

The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road.

 

O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?

Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost?

Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me?

 

O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,

You express me better than I can express myself,

You shall be more to me than my poem.

 

I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also,

I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,

I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me,

I think whoever I see must be happy.

 

5

From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines,

Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,

Listening to others, considering well what they say,

Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,

Gently,but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.

I inhale great draughts of space,

The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

 

I am larger, better than I thought,

I did not know I held so much goodness.

 

All seems beautiful to me,

I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you,

I will recruit for myself and you as I go,

I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,

I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,

Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,

Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

 

6

Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me,

Now if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear’d it would not astonish me.

 

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons,

It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

 

Here a great personal deed has room,

(Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men,

Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.)

 

Here is the test of wisdom,

Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,

Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it,

Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,

Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,

Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;

Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.

 

Now I re-examine philosophies and religions,

They may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents.

 

Here is realization,

Here is a man tallied—he realizes here what he has in him,

The past, the future, majesty, love—if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them.

 

Only the kernel of every object nourishes;

Where is he who tears off the husks for you and me?

Where is he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you and me?

 

Here is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion’d, it is apropos;

Do you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers?

Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls?

 

7

Here is the efflux of the soul,

The efflux of the soul comes from within through embower’d gates, ever provoking questions,

These yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they?

Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood?

Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?

Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?

(I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always drop fruit as I pass;)

What is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers?

What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side?

What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by and pause?

What gives me to be free to a woman’s and man’s good-will? what gives them to be free to mine?

 

8

The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness,

I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times,

Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged.

 

Here rises the fluid and attaching character,

The fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of man and woman,

(The herbs of the morning sprout no fresher and sweeter every day out of the roots of themselves, than it sprouts fresh and sweet continually out of itself.)

 

Toward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the love of young and old,

From it falls distill’d the charm that mocks beauty and attainments,

Toward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact.

 

9

Allons! whoever you are come travel with me!

Traveling with me you find what never tires.

 

The earth never tires,

The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first,

Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop’d,

I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.

 

Allons! we must not stop here,

However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here,

However shelter’d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here,

However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while.

 

10

Allons! the inducements shall be greater,

We will sail pathless and wild seas,

We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail.

 

Allons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements,

Health, defiance, gayety, self-esteem, curiosity;

Allons! from all formules!

From your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests.

 

The stale cadaver blocks up the passage—the burial waits no longer.

 

Allons! yet take warning!

He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance,

None may come to the trial till he or she bring courage and health,

Come not here if you have already spent the best of yourself,

Only those may come who come in sweet and determin’d bodies,

No diseas’d person, no rum-drinker or venereal taint is permitted here.

 

(I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes,

We convince by our presence.)

 

11

Listen! I will be honest with you,

I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,

These are the days that must happen to you:

You shall not heap up what is call’d riches,

You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,

You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart,

You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you,

What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,

You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you.

 

12

Allons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them!

They too are on the road—they are the swift and majestic men—they are the greatest women,

Enjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas,

Sailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land,

Habituès of many distant countries, habituès of far-distant dwellings,

Trusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary toilers,

Pausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the shore,

Dancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of children, bearers of children,

Soldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down of coffins,

Journeyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the curious years each emerging from that which preceded it,

Journeyers as with companions, namely their own diverse phases,

Forth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days,

Journeyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their bearded and well-grain’d manhood,

Journeyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass’d, content,

Journeyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or womanhood,

Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe,

Old age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.

 

13

Allons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless,

To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights,

To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights they tend to,

Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys,

To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it,

To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it,

To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, however long but it stretches and waits for you,

To see no being, not God’s or any, but you also go thither,

To see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all without labor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not abstracting one particle of it,

To take the best of the farmer’s farm and the rich man’s elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens,

To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through,

To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go,

To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter them, to gather the love out of their hearts,

To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave them behind you,

To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls.

 

All parts away for the progress of souls,

All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that was or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners before the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe.

 

Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance.

 

Forever alive, forever forward,

Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dissatisfied,

Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men,

They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go,

But I know that they go toward the best—toward something great.

 

Whoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth!

You must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though you built it, or though it has been built for you.

 

Out of the dark confinement! out from behind the screen!

It is useless to protest, I know all and expose it.

 

Behold through you as bad as the rest,

Through the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people,

Inside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash’d and trimm’d faces,

Behold a secret silent loathing and despair.

 

No husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession,

Another self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes,

Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and bland in the parlors,

In the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly,

Home to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom, everywhere,

Smartly attired, countenance smiling, form upright, death under the breast-bones, hell under the skull-bones,

Under the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers,

Keeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself,

Speaking of any thing else but never of itself.

 

14

Allons! through struggles and wars!

The goal that was named cannot be countermanded.

 

Have the past struggles succeeded?

What has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature?

Now understand me well—it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.

 

My call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion,

He going with me must go well arm’d,

He going with me goes often with spare diet, poverty, angry enemies, desertions.

 

15

Allons! the road is before us!

It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d!

 

Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!

Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!

Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!

Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

 

Camerado, I give you my hand!

I give you my love more precious than money,

I give you myself before preaching or law;

Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?

Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

 

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Poet’s Beat on Jazz Canvas ~ “Toward An Organic Philosophy” by Kenneth Rexroth featuring Schawkie Roth – “Awareness Folded in Mystery”

“Toward An Organic Philosophy” by Kenneth Rexroth

Coastal Forest Black And White

Coastal Forest Black And White

SPRING, COAST RANGE

The glow of my campfire is dark red and flameless,
The circle of white ash widens around it.
I get up and walk off in the moonlight and each time
I look back the red is deeper and the light smaller.
Scorpio rises late with Mars caught in his claw;
The moon has come before them, the light
Like a choir of children in the young laurel trees.
It is April; the shad, the hot headed fish,
Climbs the rivers; there is trillium in the damp canyons;
The foetid adder’s tongue lolls by the waterfall.
There was a farm at this campsite once, it is almost gone now.
There were sheep here after the farm, and fire
Long ago burned the redwoods out of the gulch,
The Douglas fir off the ridge; today the soil
Is stony and incoherent, the small stones lie flat
And plate the surface like scales.
Twenty years ago the spreading gully
Toppled the big oak over onto the house.
Now there is nothing left but the foundations
Hidden in poison oak, and above on the ridge,
Six lonely, ominous fenceposts;
The redwood beams of the barn make a footbridge
Over the deep waterless creek bed;
The hills are covered with wild oats
Dry and white by midsummer.
I walk in the random survivals of the orchard.
In a patch of moonlight a mole
Shakes his tunnel like an angry vein;
Orion walks waist deep in the fog coming in from the ocean;
Leo crouches under the zenith.
There are tiny hard fruits already on the plum trees.
The purity of the apple blossoms is incredible.
As the wind dies down their fragrance
Clusters around them like thick smoke.
All the day they roared with bees, in the moonlight
They are silent and immaculate.

SPRING, SIERRA NEVADA

Spring of full bloom in Sierra Nevada

Spring of full bloom in Sierra Nevada

Once more golden Scorpio glows over the col
Above Deadman Canyon, orderly and brilliant,
Like an inspiration in the brain of Archimedes.
I have seen its light over the warm sea,
Over the coconut beaches, phosphorescent and pulsing;
And the living light in the water
Shivering away from the swimming hand,
Creeping against the lips, filling the floating hair.
Here where the glaciers have been and the snow stays late,
The stone is clean as light, the light steady as stone.
The relationship of stone, ice and stars is systematic and enduring:
Novelty emerges after centuries, a rock spalls from the cliffs,
The glacier contracts and turns grayer,
The stream cuts new sinuosities in the meadow,
The sun moves through space and the earth with it,
The stars change places.
The snow has lasted longer this year,
Than anyone can remember. The lowest meadow is a lake,
The next two are snowfields, the pass is covered with snow,
Only the steepest rocks are bare. Between the pass
And the last meadow the snowfield gapes for a hundred feet,
In a narrow blue chasm through which a waterfall drops,
Spangled with sunset at the top, black and muscular
Where it disappears again in the snow.
The world is filled with hidden running water
That pounds in the ears like ether;
The granite needles rise from the snow, pale as steel;
Above the copper mine the cliff is blood red,
The white snow breaks at the edge of it;
The sky comes close to my eyes like the blue eyes
Of someone kissed in sleep.
I descend to camp,
To the young, sticky, wrinkled aspen leaves,
To the first violets and wild cyclamen,
And cook supper in the blue twilight.
All night deer pass over the snow on sharp hooves,
In the darkness their cold muzzles find the new grass
At the edge of the snow.

FALL, SIERRA NEVADA

Fall In The NC Mountains-L

Fall In The NC Mountains-L

This morning the hermit thrush was absent at breakfast,
His place was taken by a family of chickadees;
At noon a flock of humming birds passed south,
Whirling in the wind up over the saddle between
Ritter and Banner, following the migration lane
Of the Sierra crest southward to Guatemala.
All day cloud shadows have moved over the face of the mountain,
The shadow of a golden eagle weaving between them
Over the face of the glacier.
At sunset the half-moon rides on the bent back of the Scorpion,
The Great Bear kneels on the mountain.
Ten degrees below the moon
Venus sets in the haze arising from the Great Valley.
Jupiter, in opposition to the sun, rises in the alpenglow
Between the burnt peaks. The ventriloquial belling
Of an owl mingles with the bells of the waterfall.
Now there is distant thunder on the east wind.
The east face of the mountain above me
Is lit with far off lightnings and the sky
Above the pass blazes momentarily like an aurora.
It is storming in the White Mountains,
On the arid fourteen-thousand-foot peaks;
Rain is falling on the narrow gray ranges
And dark sedge meadows and white salt flats of Nevada.
Just before moonset a small dense cumulus cloud,
Gleaming like a grape cluster of metal,
Moves over the Sierra crest and grows down the westward slope.
Frost, the color and quality of the cloud,
Lies over all the marsh below my campsite.
The wiry clumps of dwarfed whitebark pines
Are smoky and indistinct in the moonlight,
Only their shadows are really visible.
The lake is immobile and holds the stars
And the peaks deep in itself without a quiver.
In the shallows the geometrical tendrils of ice
Spread their wonderful mathematics in silence.
All night the eyes of deer shine for an instant
As they cross the radius of my firelight.
In the morning the trail will look like a sheep driveway,
All the tracks will point down to the lower canyon.
“Thus,” says Tyndall, “the concerns of this little place
Are changed and fashioned by the obliquity of the earth’s axis,
The chain of dependence which runs through creation,
And links the roll of a planet alike with the interests
Of marmots and of men.”

 

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz in Your Ear ~ RiffShots of mindfulness improv thoughts using literary and acoustic jazz 2 change ur life & world we live in! featuring Roberto Menescal – The Shadow of Your Smile

Listening to the Universe within

Listening to the Universe within

The Monterey Jazz Festival begins today.  I just wanted to share some riffshots of mindfulness improv thought using  Roberto Menescal;s “The Shadow of Your Smile” to demonstrate a third version of expression and improvisation.  Have a wonderful day!  Peace Out!  JBC 8-) & <3

 

 

Mindfulness means paying attention in a particular way; on purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally.”  -Jon Kabat-Zinn

 

 

Because there really is still a chance for peace — and that chance will definitely increase if we each do our piece. It is ultimately up to us, each one of us, all of us, individually and together, to create the kind of world in which we want to live — to be the change we seek — starting right here, right now. Within the context of our immediate lives, within the concentric circles of our ordinary interactions. With each step that we take, we must walk our talk, speak our truth and put our money where our mouth is. ~  Mama Donna Henes, “Being Change Changes Everything”

Japanese translation for meaning

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artisthttp://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz In Your Ear ~ How to Listen to Jazz and Connect with the Universe Within Like a Pro ~ featuring The Shadow Of Your Smile ~2 Styles Dizzy Gillespie and Kenny G ~ Can U Hear Me Now?

Listening to the Universe within

Listening to the Universe within

When I started listening ( I mean really listening) to jazz music, it was daunting at first.  It was sorta like when I began meditating, I fell asleep! Ouch!  My bad! So this can happen to you when you first listened but even if it doesn’t it could be very enlightening by learning jazz lingo and what to listen for.  I am going to kick off 2014 with a weekly breakdown of the 7 aphorisms of understanding and listening to jazz.  Now that doesn’t have anything to do with the way you impart your style, swagger or look, so don those kicks, put on your favorite shades, grab the chaise and lean in and let the riffs begin.  Here are tips of what to listen for:

∞       How the soloist and the chord playing musician interact. 

∞  Comping (an abbreviation for “accompanying”) is a term used in jazz music to describe chordsrhythms, and counter melodies that keyboard players (piano or organ) or guitar players use to support a jazz musician’s (horn player’s) improvised solo or melody lines.

∞   Call and Response is an interaction between musicians.   The first is the Call phrase is played and the second phrase played is the commentary or Response to the first phrase. It corresponds to the call and response pattern found in a conversation between two people.  It is the basic element of musical form and is the most popular music phrasing in jazz.

∞       Rhythm ~ The backbone and is the most critical component of jazz.  Listen to how the drummer strengthens the bass player. In a Walking bassline the bass and drummer on the ride cymbal are playing the same rhythm.  When the bass player is not playing a walking bassline, the drummer will solo and will play the a dramatically improvised phrase.

∞       Solo Improvisation is where the artist will play without the accompaniment of the drummer. The soloist will sometimes lock on to an idea or phrase and the drummer will mimic the phrase during their improvisational exchange (call and response).

∞       Melody & Timing:   When listening to the solo improvisation keep the song’s melody and rhythm timing in your head to know where the musicians are in the song.  After the musicians have finished playing through the “form” of the song, the drummer will generally play some sort of rhythmic phrase to indicate they are going back to the beginning again of the song. (aka HeadChart).

The 1st track performed by Dizzy Gillespie was nominated for the 1966 Grammy.

There is nothing more beautiful than listening to Kenny G.

Two different artistic expressions and improvisations.  How many of the tips did you hear?

Jazz offers a great listening experience and for folks willing and with a little patience you will emotionally respond to the artist that you are listening to. Now it is a whole different talk show when it comes to going live or going Memorex.  Dizzy was a total performer and somewhat of a comedian when it came to being on stage. I thought I would give you an example …

Uploaded on Nov 21, 2008

Dizzy Gillespie and quintet recorded in 1965 to coincide with the release of the album Dizzy on The French Riviera, with Kenny Barron replacing Lalo Schifrin on piano.

Trumpet – Dizzy Gillespie
Saxaphone/Flute – James Moody
Bass – Christopher White
Piano – Kenny Barron
Drums – Rudy Collins

2 days left to MJF.  If you can’t be there in person, then join me and we will go there in our minds, after all Sun Ra got it…Space Is the Place especially when it’s a head trip…Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

Copyright © 2011-14 by Jazzybeatchick. All rights reserved.

This material has been copyrighted,  feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and, provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name @ http://jazzybeatchick.com and your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz on Canvas ~ In Camera: The Men From Monterey ~ 3 Jazz men, 20 year Reunion n’ Me It Does Not Get Any Better Than This…featuring Gil Fuller & Monterey Jazz Festival Orchestra – “Man From Monterey” – 2007 – Remaster

Romare Bearden Jazz  Collages

Romare Bearden Jazz Collages

“I’m saying: to be continued, until we meet again. Meanwhile, keep on listening and tapping your feet.” ~   Count Basie

Excerpt from memoir. This was a conversation I had with my father on the way to the tenth Rehearsal of the MJFO in July, 1965….
The sunrise cast a warm glow through my picture window early Monday morning.  Dad is sitting at the piano in our living room making last-minute notations for the songs for rehearsal later today.  He is my five a.m. wake up call. I would hear dulcet tones sending a breath of notes across my mind to the beat of my existence.  It was a series of riffs and changes with a syncopated harmonic intent.  It had a rhythm that majestically brought a sense of devotion to each note.  The sound of him hitting each piano key gave the house a mystery, transforming life and setting our house apart from the rest of the houses on Wilton Place.

As we are driving to the rehearsal studio my dad turned to me I gave up traveling with the band so that I could devote myself to my family. I am really excited about getting back into the groove again.   You know Dizzy chose me to serve as music director and conductor for the Orchestra this year. In the ‘40’s I wrote Dizzy’s arrangements . That’s where we met.  Back in the day we played Bebop with folks like Charlie Parker and Thelonious Monk.  We were best known for songs like “Manteca”, “Things are Here”, “One Bass Hit” and “Tin Tin Deo”. 

I know that I have offered you guitar lessons, but, being a musician, writer or singer leads to a hard life for you.  I know that you can do anything you want but just not anything creative because traditionally women are not appreciated or respected.  I am telling you this because I am your father.  I really want the best life for you. 

 I am numb.  I look at him hoping that he was joking but he quickly turned away, he is guilty of committing that very tradition in his orchestra.

We rode for the last 20 minutes in silence.    It is deafening.  I am the “native” daughter of the Jazz world in the ‘60’s where the reining tradition was parents (‘rents) had the final word.  I slump down in my seat staring out the window trying to recover.  I feel betrayed.   Deep down inside I always felt like I was a visitor especially when it came to expressing my feelings and even more so in the world.  To me being mixed race or checking the “Other” box is a perfect witness to my life.  My father is a very complicated man of contradictions.  So reading and writing poems became my escape.    It liberated me from the labyrinths of insuperable gender and race biases that tend to dissipate little girls like me.

I would hole up in my room for hours overhearing myself admit difficult truths that I could not hide from.  It welcomed creative inspirations into my sensory consciousness.    It gave me the chance to explore and discover the province of sound and words.   I found my rhythm and started writing poems and improvised prose. Mom taught me how to read when I was 3.

The rest of the drive to the rehearsal studio felt lonely.  Everything around me seemed to have vanished along with my excitement.  I shifted trying to compose myself.  I wanted to shake myself free from the volcano that just erupted in my soul.  Suddenly breaking my solitude my father proclaimed We Are Here!  My excitement returned.

The rehearsal was now under way.  It was an invitation to my imagination renewing my love for writing – cultivating a deep joy in my heart.  The studio fell silent. My father began to motion the count as he tapped his foot.  Calm waves from the alto sax and trombones began to move into the downbeat, the cymbal gently touches the shores of 4/4 time….Dizzy’s cheeks puffed out, his crazy angled trumpet bell releases the sounds of surprise announcing …the  Man from Monterey has arrived.

Ralph Gleason from the Chronicle summed up the day’s session perfectly on the album’s liner notes… he wrote The 1965 Monterey Jazz Festival music clearly is designed to last.  This amalgam of the talents of Gillespie and Fuller are insurance that it will. The orchestra played the music at this session for all time, which is the way good jazz is always played.

I had fallen in love with the sound of words, even though I had to keep it a secret.   I credit discovering my inner voice when immersed in the sound and creation of jazz music was realized at today’s session.  Now when I am facing cancer trials and tribulations, I write.  When I am grateful for the wonders of life and God’s blessings, I write.  When I am weary and discouraged, I write.  I always felt that my father didn’t want me to become a writer, it wasn’t until after his death that I found out it was just his way of letting me know that if I can take all the adversity and really feel that I had to write,  then I must write…..  Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz On Canvas ~The MJFO Rehearsal 1965 Tributes the Upcoming 57th Annual Monterey Jazz Festival 2014 continues to Create a Magical Experience

 

2014 MJF Poster

2014 MJF Poster

You still have 5 days to enter a contest to escape to San Diego! In partnership with Alaska Airlines and Monterey Regional Airport, win a round trip for two plus accommodations to San Diego, or win Arena tickets to next year’s Monterey Jazz Festival!  Click here for more details! http://bit.ly/1pqaIc5

An estimated 500 + artists will be performing nonstop on 8 stages for 3 nights and 2 days of the world’s best jazz.

Voted “World’s Best Jazz Festival” by the readers of JazzTimes Magazine in 2006, 2007 and 2008, the Monterey Jazz Festival offers 20 acres of magnificent oak-studded grounds for fans to enjoy, featuring films, conversations with the Festival’s stars, exhibitions, food and beverages, an international shopping bazaar, and 8 stages of live jazz entertainment spread throughout the grounds.

Here is an excerpt from my memoir  circa 1965.  See why the Monterey Jazz Festival 2014 re-creates that magical Aha! Moment that subsequently transformed and saved my life.

Getting the Big News…

...It was early morning on Wednesday, April 14th, 1965, I pad to the bathroom to get ready for school.  It was my father’s birthday and I could hear him in my parent’s bedroom contacting the musicians that he wanted to play in the orchestra… he selected for trumpets:  Dizzy Gillespie, Freddie Hill, Harry Edison, Melvin Moor & John Audino/ trombones:  Lester Robinson, Francis Fitzpatrick & Jim Amlotte/French Horns:  Herman Lebow, Sam Cassano, David Duke & Alan Robinson/reeds:  Buddy Collete, Gabe Balthazar, Bill Giden, Carrington Visor, Jr., Bill Garden & Jack Nimitz/guitar:  Dennis Budimir/piano:  Phil Moore, Jr./bass:  Jimmy Bond/drums:  Earl Palmer.  When my dad was setting up for the rehearsal dates, I was sitting at the table in the family room beside him drawing pictures and reading.  He would look over and smile and wink at me.  The rehearsals started in mid-June and my father made arrangements for the orchestra to rehearse till the middle of August at MDM Rehearsal Studios in Los Angeles near the L.A. Zoo.

The early evening sky was ashen; it was the last day of school dad came and picked my brother and I up at the school playground.  I was a tomboy and loved to play softball.  When dad whistled we both looked up and saw the car, we ran to the car and jumped in the back seat.  My dad smiled saying “You guys smell like plucked chickens!  We all laughed.  We were now on our way to pick up my mom who taught at an elementary school in Compton.  I always wondered why my mother didn’t lock us in a closet when we got home because she taught students that were the same age as we were, she never did though.  We saw mom and were jumping with joy as dad scolded us to sit still and be quite.

It was quite difficult living and growing up in a racially segregated city like Los Angeles in the 60’s.   I didn’t fit into any group. The jazz world was the only place I felt safe.  Jazz culture had transformed and wasvery  healing because social tensions became gist for self-expression in the musician’s solo performances.  That’s it for now.  Stayed tuned, there’s more… Now that’s Jazz, Peace Out! JBC <3  8-)

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Jazz on Canvas ~ Poet’s Beat ~ Notes on the Art of Memory by Diane di Palma accompanied by Monk’s Dream Take 8

Kadinsky and the Spiritual in Art

Kadinsky and the Spiritual in Art

Jazz Mimesis is an imitation of Aristotle’sPoetics” exploring a critical and philosophical premise covering a wide range of meanings as relates to Poet’s Beat category of this blog.   I imagine that when Diane wrote this poem she was grooving to this melody.  Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

“The only war that matters is the war against the imagination / All other wars are subsumed in its’ and of whom her contemporary….” Beat poet Michael McClure, commented, “There is no other poet like Diane di Prima.” 

For the past twenty years she has lived and worked in northern California, where she took part in the political activities of the Diggers, lived in a late-sixties’ commune, studied Zen Buddhism, Sanskrit and alchemy, and raised her five children. From 1980 to 1986 she taught hermetic and esoteric traditions in poetry, in a short-lived but significant program at New College of California. Her work has been translated into over twenty languages.

 Notes on the Art of Memory

by Diane di Palma

for Thelonious Monk

The Stars are a memory system

for thru them

                                    we remember our origin

Our home is behind the sun

or a divine wind

                                               that fills us

makes us think so.

 

 

Copyright © 2011-2014 by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted,  feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and, provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name @ http://jazzybeatchick.com and your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Japanese translation for meaning

Jazz in Your Ear

Listening to the Universe within

Listening to the Universe within

 

 

“Zen is not some kind of excitement, but concentration on our usual everyday routine.” – Shunryu Suzuki

 

 

 

 

A riff shot of mindfulness improv moment ~  meditations  of words with kool jazz 2 kick ur life into gear!  Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

Overflowing Cup of Tea

The Zen Master poured his visitor’s teacup full, and then kept pouring.
The visitor watched until he could no longer restrain himself.
“It is overfull. No more will go in!”
“Like this cup,” the Zen Master said,
“you are full of your own opinions and assumptions.
How can you learn truth until you first empty your cup?”

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Are We There Yet? Jazz Bytes ~ My Fave Multi-Layered Scallion Pancakes by Mandy @ Lady and pups • Food trucks roll into Monterey for Street Food Festival by By Dennis Taylor feat. Gil Fuller & Monterey Jazz Festival – Big Sur – 2007 – Remaster

For you Foodies that want to get your grub on at the Festival here is my all time favorite Street Food…Bon Appétit!  JBC <3

Multi-Layered Scallion Pancakes

By Mandy @ Lady and pups •

Author Notes: Here’s a recipe for creating one of the beloved street snacks in Taiwan, thin and soft flatbread with multi-laminated diced scallions and scallion oil.

NOTE: One of the tricks, I believe, is not to roll the dough to such deadly thinness that you lose the layers. The first roll-out, when you apply the scallion oil, should be slightly thinner than 1/8 inch. And the final roll-out should be a bit thicker than 1/16 inch. Any thinner than that, and you’ll flatten out all the work you’ve done. I’m not gonna lie: You may fail the first time. But it will eventually take you to yummy town.

There’s no reason why the awesomeness of this flatbread can’t be expanded to other herbs besides scallion. Think basil, a little rosemary, thyme, or garlic and parsley. Whatever you have on hand, really, is going to turn these flatbread into great snacks or a show-stealing addition to a bread basket (don’t you loooove bread baskets!?) ~ Mandy @ Lady and pups

 

Makes 4 large flatbreads.

Dough:

  • 1cup (130 grams) all-purpose flour
  • 1cup (140 grams) bread flour
  • 2teaspoons sugar
  • 1/4teaspoon salt
  • 1/2cup (120 grams) hot/warm water (150° F)
  • 1/4cup cold/room-temperature water
  • 1/4cup (50 grams) vegetable oil

Scallion oil and fillings

  • 2cups (105 grams) diced scallions, divided
  • 1/2cup (100 grams) vegetable oil
  • 1teaspoon salt
  • 1teaspoon ground white pepper, divided into 1/2 teaspoon each
  • 1/4teaspoon ground black pepper
  • 1/8teaspoon baking soda
  • Coarse sea salt, to taste
  • More vegetable oil for frying

 

  1. TO MAKE THE DOUGH: Mix all-purpose flour, bread flour, sugar, and salt together in the bowl of a stand mixer. Bring a small pot of water to 150º F (it should be almost too hot to touch but NOT close to a simmer), then with the machine running on low, add 1/2 cup of the hot water into the flour mixture. Mix for 1 minute or so. The mixture will still look like loose flours with large lumps. Then add 1/4 cup of cold water and mix for 1 minute, and then add 1/4 cup of vegetable oil. Turn the machine to medium-high speed and knead the dough for 5 minutes until shiny and elastic. The dough will be very wet and sticking to the side of the bowl in the beginning (if it seems tacky already, add 1 teaspoon of water), but it should slowly pull away cleanly at the end of kneading. When you lift the dough hook, the wet dough should droop down from the hook slowly.
  2. If you must knead with your hands, you can. But keep in mind that this is quite a wet dough and it will stick to your hands while kneading. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rest for at least 1 hour.
  3. TO MAKE THE SCALLION OIL AND FILLING: Add 1 cup of diced scallions, vegetable oil, salt, 1/2 teaspoon of ground white pepper and 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper in a blender and blend until smooth. Transfer into a bowl. Take 3 tablespoons of the mixture out into another bowl and add 1/8 teaspoon of baking soda, mix until combined and keep both in the fridge. Mix the rest of the 1 cup of diced scallion with 1/2 tsp of ground white pepper, set aside.
  4. TO MAKE THE FLATBREADS: Divide the dough into 4 portions and set on a well-floured surface. Take 1 portion, dust with more flour, and roll it into about a 1/8-inch sheet. Apply a generous layer of scallion oil (mixed with baking soda) and sprinkle 2 tablespoons of diced scallions over the sheet, then fold it in the same direction 3 times (like folding a letter) into a log, then fold the log lengthwise 2 times into a round shape (try to eliminate as much air as possible while you fold). Set aside (to let it rest) and repeat the same process with the other 3 portions.
  5. Now go back to the first dough you worked on (which has had a few minutes to rest) and press it down gently into a thick, flat disk. There will be air pockets in between the layers which will make it hard to roll out, so pierce the dough a few times with a fork and dust with only enough flour to prevent sticking, then roll into a large circle slightly thicker than 1/16 inch. (Be careful not to over-roll it because you’ll risk flattening all the layers.) If the dough springs back stubbornly, rest it for another 2 min. If you want to keep the flatbreads in the freezer, laminate the rolled-out doughs in between two sheets of parchment paper and tuck inside a zip-lock bag. Keep frozen until needed.
  6. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large, nonstick skillet over medium heat. Carefully lift the dough up and transfer to the skillet. Cook over medium-low heat, add more oil if needed, and cook until golden brown on both sides (it’s important to add enough oil). The baking soda will create bubbles in between layers during cookings. Right off the skillet while it’s still hot, brush the top with more scallion oil (without baking soda). Serve immediately.

This recipe is a Community Pick!

I thought that you would like to see the Foodies Goodies from a Street food festival that will be also appearing at this year’s Jazz Festival  ~

Food trucks roll into Monterey for Street Food Festival

dtaylor@montereyherald.com @mchdennistaylor on Twitter

 

Food fest at the Monterey Jazz Festival

Food fest at the Monterey Jazz Festival

 

MONTEREY >> On a picturesque Monterey Peninsula famous for froufrou food festivals, the Monterey County Fair & Event Center was the place to be Saturday for anyone who wears a Timex instead of a Rolex, and would rather wear a T-shirt than a silk shirt.

Nobody needed a $500 ticket to get into the Monterey Street Food Festival — admission was free — and most of the “top chefs” did their cooking on the inside of brightly painted food trucks. And if all of those T-shirt-wearing critics are to be believed, the cuisine was just as delectable as anything at Pebble Beach Food & Wine.

“We just happened to be driving by today, saw all the cars and decided to stop and see what was going on,” said Carmel resident Tina Claypool as she and her husband, Joe, lunched on tri-tip and calamari from Spice It Up Catering. “We were hoping there would be food inside, but we had no idea it was a food festival. We’re new to the area — we’ve been living in England for the past three years — and I thought maybe they were having horse races or something.”

“This is great,” Joe added. “I wish they did this every weekend, or a couple of times a month. It would be a nice place to stop and have lunch.”

There were offerings to suit almost every taste. Kukisbowl offered Japanese cuisine. The menu at Beyond the Border included Pacific Rockfish tacos, chimichurri steak salad, and chipotle ranch chicken, The Little Red Barn, a Salinas company, hyped its “world famous potatoes,” corn nachos, bacon, barbecue and broccoli. Omininjasi served up garlic ginger rice, bun vermicelli noodles, sweet potato tots and green waffles. At India Gourmet, the options included naan wrap, lamb or chicken curry, spinach saag and mixed vegetables.

Joe Claypool of Carmel tears off a piece of potato from a Tornado Potato at the third annual Monterey Street Food Festival on Saturday. Joe and his wife, Tina, who recently moved back to the United States from England, were driving by the fairgrounds when they noticed all the cars parked outside and decided to stop themselves. (Vernon McKnight/Herald Correspondent)

At Maha’s Lebanese Cuisine, they lined up for falafel sandwiches, chicken, beef or lamb shawarma, and mixed kabob.

“We come down from Redwood City every year and it’s an awful lot of fun,” said Richard Deutsch through the window of the Old Port Lobster Snackmobile, where the specialties included “lobstah rolls,” “lobstah crunch,” pulled pork, and baked macaroni and cheese. “I also have four Lobster Shack restaurants — one in Redwood City, one in Portola Valley, and two in San Jose — but I love coming to this event, where we get a lot of families, young people, old people . . . it’s a blast.”

The soundtrack for the five-hour festival was provided by Jake Nielsen’s Triple Threat, a Santa Cruz blues/rock trio, and additional culture arrived with the Monterey Library’s Bookmobile, which offered gourmet pretzels.

Fouad Aridi of Lebanon, working with his family, owners of Maha’s Lebanese Cuisines of Monterey, turns a potato into a Tornado Potato at the Monterey Street Food Festival on Saturday. (Vernon McKnight/Herald Correspondent)

“We like to do outreach at a lot of the community events, which is why we’re here today,” explained Joanne White, a library assistant at Monterey Public Library. “We like to tell the kids about our summer reading program, which is coming up next month, and we also like signing people up for library cards. And if I wasn’t here, I’d be in the library all day, so this is a fun day for me.”

“I actually live right down the street, but this is the first time I’ve ever been to this event,” said Andrea Bruno. “I think it’s great. It’s a free event. The whole family can come. There’s live music. The food is great. They should do this every weekend.”

Fouad Aridi of Lebanon, working with his family, owners of Maha’s Lebanese Cuisines of Monterey, deep fries a Tornado Potato at the Monterey Street Food Festival on Saturday. (Vernon McKnight/Herald Correspondent)

 

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

Do You Know the Way to Monterey? Tribute to the 2014 Monterey Jazz Festival

2014 MJF Poster

Gear Up!  Get your bags packed, book your weekend and flight to Monterey for the upcoming 57th Annual Monterey Jazz Festival on Friday September 19th.  Don’t forget your shades, your cool swagger and most of all your insatiable acoustic and visual appetite for Jazz at its finest.  This is especially something that I look forward to every year since 1965 inspiring me to write a book filled with acoustic and visual recreations of the festival that became the template for A Year of Musical Thinking.

The 2015 MJF  is an acoustic and visual meditative journey traversing the extraordinary and intriguing   lives and careers of the  1965 Men from Monterey jazz legends – Gil Fuller, Dizzy Gillespie and James Moody.   It will be a contemporary and archival film, along with commentary from the jazz and pop sounds; visual contemporary  and literary arts worlds, to create and explore through mindfulness improvisation gaining a better understand these enigmatic men and their spiritual expression and pursuit through jazz. Gil Fuller was top arranger and band leader for the 1965 Monterey Jazz Festival Orchestra featuring Dizzy Gillespie and James Moody who were celebrating their twenty year reunion.  Fuller was credited with enhancing the careers of Dizzy Gillespie and James Moody providing the catalyst for their mindfulness improvisational genius that liberated their uniqueness and expression so they could discover themselves.  An interview with Vincent Pelote a renown jazz historian provided a glimpse of Gil Fuller using own Impressive, moving, stirring, and touching words and music rendering a prosaic and poetic thread that becomes a wonderful tapestry of  his life and the gifts he gave to me to through acoustic and visual snapshots of the unique aspects of our life together.  Here is a sample and one that I play in my car with the top down and cruising the Peninsula:  Enjoy!  Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

Here is a special treat check out this trailer… Directed by Jeffrey Morse andDorothy Darr, the latter who is Charles Lloyd‘s painter/filmmaker wife, the documentary Charles Lloyd: Arrows Into Infinity chronicles the influential saxophonist and composer’s life and career range.

Charles Lloyd was one of the most influential jazz musicians of the 1960s. His music crossed traditional boundaries and explored new territories. Born in Memphis, he grew up steeped in the blues but with an ear for modernity. At the age of 26, he was a bandleader with two successful records on Columbia Records, including Forest Flower, recorded live at the Monterey Jazz Festival in 1966. His group, the Charles Lloyd Quartet, consisted of an undiscovered Keith Jarrett, Jack DeJohnette and Cecil McBee.

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artisthttp://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Jazz in Ur Ear

Welcome to a Mindfulness improv moment that is A riff shot of words/sounds 2 mack ur day on!  Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

Listening to the Universe within

Listening to the Universe within

…“Loving others always costs us…u have 2 decide 2 do it on purpose. U can’t wait 4 a feeling 2 motivate you.”  ~ J. Meyer

Jazz on Canvas ~ In Camera: Human v. Technology Are We Loosing Creativity, Our Sense of Purpose, God Given Gifts of Love, Compassion to Risk It All and Relinquishing it to A New Aesthetic?

B/W broken-people-depressed-Favim.com-578906 (1)

B/W broken-people-depressed-Favim.com-578906 (1)

 

“In a sense, technology is already a fundamental part of our humanity and because of it we are transitioning from a verbal culture into a one where spoken language is essentially dead. Sharing our thoughts through pictures, like buttons, and online profiles have become our primary form of communication alongside artistic expression. When the two are combined, we are left with a bizarre yet relatable aesthetic. Social networking websites function as an ideal medium for the infectious phenomena of digitized art.”  ~ Elizabeth Heitner’s blog.

You see I have a serious concern and strongly disagree with this.  It is not progress it is de-humanizing us causing us to be automatons.  Albeit it is great to have a computer over a typewriter because it is a tool and not a replacement.  I don’t know about you, but, the new toll free information number is absolutely maddening.  You call and ask an electronic voice for the name of a business or person and the computer spits back something totally ridiculous and you going around and round till you don’t get the listing and the call is terminated.  In the late fifties and early sixties I learned the power of reading and words from my mother and the power of sound and music from my father.  Together it was a nurturing environment that was both physiological and neurological in terms of discovering the five senses of touch, taste, hearing, seeing and most of all feeling.  I can simply close my eyes and recreate and transform an experience into a fully engaged in the moment experience.  Mindfulness improvisation is dependent upon that.  Moreover, it is not predicated or reliant upon power, WiFi signals or technology.

American culture can sometimes be fickle especially when it comes to trends and the hottest new technological advances with smart phones and home alarm systems that can be remotely activated.  The New Aesthetic is allegedly considered an artistic movement. It must be described as physical versus virtual, or humans versus machines.  Technology can only exist when created by humans.  With that comes the inherent disability limited to the individual’s capability who designs it. Its major visual emblems include “pixilated images”, “Photoshop glitches” and animated GIFs.   Where would all of this be if the illustrators and artist genus of Walt Disney.  Data visualization,  i.e., Venn diagram are considered a part of the New Aesthetic in addition to Google Maps and “screen grabs”.  Another popular trend is the Selfie where photos of people taking photos in awkward moments.  Hands down, I prefer photographs by photographers who have a passion to snap pix of nature, oceans, people and life.  It is through their lens that we develop pictures to make us laugh or cry or conjure up memories of times gone by.

Stepping_stones

Stepping_stones

The New Aesthetic is superficial and shallow but most of all is limited to the creators abilities to use and master the technology. When video games came out like Dungeons and Dragons it hit the youth market and became an all encompassing phenomenon that led to a disconnect to human existence.  The virtual world become a reality and that reality was marred by violence and an inability to communicate.  It was so much fun going to the movies or seeing a play on Broadway or going to an outdoor festival and concert.  It draws like minded people together.  Improvisation will no longer exist.  Imagination will no longer exist.  Mindfulness will become vacuous and is the very threat to our culture and life on earth.

The New Aesthetic is robbing and replacing our reason and purpose to honor our differences and to communicate feelings and ideas through language, contemporary visual arts and music.  What happens to the artists writers, musicians when it comes to the very thing that makes us love, care, share, hope and imagine an inner glimpse of our souls.  It is not limited by anything and somehow you cannot replace experience ~ good or bad, personal growth and transformation and finding our way in this big vast universe because God created us to be the way we are and unraveling the mysteries of life whether there is power or not.  I’ll take books, plays, concerts and life in its purest and simplest form not relying on anything else but each other.  Peace Out!   JBC 8-)

Japanese translation for meaning

 

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artisthttp://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

Conversations on a Jazz Canvas ~ The Best Laid Plans …Are “No” Plans featuring Sun Ra’s – Exactly Like You

Concept Photo of Piping and Instrument Diagram, Human Eye, World

Concept Photo of Piping and Instrument Diagram, Human Eye, World

We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”  Joseph Campbell

 

I woke up this morning to gray skies with the air punctuated with a gentle rain. Fall seems to be just around the corner. Resistance has brought me to realize that sometimes I can be my own worst enemy which spirals into full blown sleep walking.  I am disconnected from the present.  Fear that my secret will come to light.  I cannot  identify the exact moment that my life fell apart. Holidays sometimes brings on these feelings of resistance – pain, being abandoned, feelings of not measuring up.  Old tapes begin to play tricks with my mind I hear “You can’t write,  you will never finish your plans to write a memoir, blah blah blah.”  I just wanted the pain of the “brokenness” to stop. I knew I could make a better choice, but it was the last thing I thought I could do. The other choice was to give myself permission to feel the pain, fear, and devastation of my world.  So I stop, focus on my breath and reconnect with my heart and soul.  Everything that happens externally is a reflection of what goes on internally. Mindfulness improv gives us the power to change our perspective.  If you  start by focusing on one belief it will transform it and the healing will be reflected outwardly. It’s this realization that prompted me to start mindfulness improvisation with jazz as the template, the catalyst of the mindfulness and sound creates the space where we can all learn to heal, and not just exist or We all have the amazing potential to create purpose, passion, and joy in life, but first we need to believe and graciously accept the fact that we truly deserve it.

I feel so alive and energized. But I kept hearing my dad’s voice about my change in attitude. So I stopped and allowed the fear to run its course, you’re not good enough, you’ll never get it, it said. Change is life’s mainstay. Perfection, fear and change cannot take center stage at the same time. So, this past week I opted for change. Life has become way more fun, open and I accept the imperfections because they are part of the process. The discomfort that creeps into the space of doubt about sailing into uncharted waters, serves as a gentle reminder and allows me to be more creative.

Letting go of how things were, no matter how fractured things may seem, is not an easy task. It takes a ginormous amount of energy and courage to let go because it is an inside job. It instills grace. Grace to forgive myself and others, to let go of ideas of who I think I am or should be and how I think things and others should be. This allows me to surrender, replacing my old negative thoughts with hope. Change happens whether I choose to be a part or not. Fear is human. Most of us feel at one point or another something that makes us afraid. When I change my thoughts from Why is this happening to me to I have dealt with circumstances like this before and reflect and remember them, the fear stops dead in its tracks.  Developing the courage to walk along side your fears and transforming the steps (words) in a direction of what you want, the possibly be fearful and being positive cannot exist at the same time.  You cannot be afraid and have faith that things will get better.  You begin to walk your positive self talk and there is a shift in not only your mood but a shift in your perspective.  Change any overly independent thoughts such as “I’ll handle this alone” to “I have many sources of help, if I simply ask.” Shift any terrorizing thoughts such as “This is THE worst thing that could happen to me” to “I’ve handled other challenges in my life, and I’m sure I’ll survive this one.”  My new mantra has become, “Let go and Let God!” Peace out!  JBC 8-)

Japanese translation for meaning

Copyright © 2011 – 2014 by Jazzybeatchick/Jannat Marie. All rights reserved.

This material is has been copyrighted,  feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks and added to websites; please do not change the content, provide credit by including the author’s name @ http://jazzybeatchick.com and your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.

 

 

Poet’s Beat to Jazz Bytes ~ “A Something in a Summer’s Day” by Emily Dickinson ~Julia Child’s Tian de Courgettes au Riz Courtesy of Genius Recipes • August 14, 2012 • featuring Kyle Eastwood – “Summer Gone”

For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, just notes, a myriad of tiny tremors. The notes know no rest, an inflexible order gives birth to them then destroys them, without ever leaving them the chance to recuperate and exist for themselves. . . I would like to hold them back, but I know that, if I succeeded in stopping one, there would only remain in my hand a corrupt and languishing sound. I must accept their death; I must even want that death: I know of few more bitter or intense impressions. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

 

 Hope you all are kickin’ the Labor Day weekend off in true style and sophistication. I am paying a tribute to all that are celebrating their labors of love.  I thought I would start of with a lovely poem by Emily to the sultry sounds of Kyle’s Summer Gone and finishing up with Julia’s Zucchini Tian.  Best Wishes…Peace Out!  JBC 8-)

A Something in a Summer’s Day

by Emily Dickinson

A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer’s noon—
A depth—an Azure—a perfume—
Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see—

Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle—shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me—

The wizard fingers never rest—
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it narrow bed—

Still rears the East her amber Flag—
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red—

So looking on—the night—the morn
Conclude the wonder gay—
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!

Julia Child‘s Tian de Courgettes au Riz

Courtesy of Genius Recipes • August 14, 2012

 

Julia Child's Tian de Courgettes au Riz  Courtesy of Genius Recipes • August 14, 2012

Julia Child’s Tian de Courgettes au Riz Courtesy of Genius Recipes • August 14, 2012

Author Notes: Two-plus pounds of zucchini doesn’t look so demanding once you shred, salt, and squeeze it dry. It sheds its water weight, leaving a tamed pile and a lot of green, lightly salted liquid. You could simply warm the shreds through with onions and garlic or simmer in cream — or cook it into this smart zucchini and rice tian. From Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume Two (Alfred A. Knopf, 1970) (less) – Genius Recipes

Serves 6

 

Courgettes Rapées (Grated and Salted Zucchini)

  • 2 to 2 1/2pounds zucchini
  • 1/2cup plain, raw, untreated white rice
  • 1cup minced onions
  • 3 to 4tablespoons olive oil
  • 2large cloves garlic, mashed or finely minced
  • 2tablespoons flour
  • About 2 1/2cups warm liquid: zucchini juices plus milk, heated in a pan (watch this closely so that it doesn’t curdle)
  • About 2/3cups grated Parmesan cheese (save 2 tablespoons for later)
  • Salt and pepper
  • A heavily buttered 6- to 8-cup, flameproof baking and serving dish about 1 1/2 inches deep
  • 2tablespoons olive oil
  1. Shave the stem and the tip off each zucchini (or other summer squash), scrub the vegetable thoroughly but not harshly with a brush under cold running water to remove any clinging sand or dirt.
  2. If vegetables are large, halve or quarter them. If seeds are large and at all tough, and surrounding flesh is coarse rather than moist and crisp, which is more often the case with yellow squashes and striped green cocozelles than with zucchini, cut out and discard the cores.
  3. Rub the squash against the coarse side of a grater, and place grated flesh in a colander set over a bowl.
  4. For each 1 pound (2 cups) of grated squash, toss with 1 teaspoon of salt, mixing thoroughly. Let the squash drain 3 or 4 minutes, or until you are ready to proceed.
  5. Just before cooking, squeeze a handful dry and taste. If by any chance the squash is too salty, rinse in a large bowl of cold water, taste again; rinse and drain again if necessary. Then squeeze gently by handfuls, letting juices run back into bowl. Dry on paper towels. Zucchini will not be fluffy; it is still dampish, but the excess liquid is out. The pale-green, slightly saline juice drained and squeezed out of the zucchini has a certain faint flavor that can find its uses in vegetable soups, canned soups, or vegetable sauces.

Tian de Courgettes au Riz [Gratin of Zucchini, Rice, and Onions with Cheese]

  1. While the shredded zucchini is draining (reserve the juices,) drop the rice into boiling salted water, bring rapidly back to the boil, and boil exactly 5 minutes; drain and set aside.
  2. In a large (11-inch) frying pan, cook the onions slowly in the oil for 8 to 10 minutes until tender and translucent. Raise heat slightly and stir several minutes until very lightly browned.
  3. Stir in the grated and dried zucchini and garlic. Toss and turn for 5 to 6 minutes until the zucchini is almost tender.
  4. Sprinkle in the flour, stir over moderate heat for 2 minutes, and remove from heat.
  5. Gradually stir in the 2 1/2 cups warm liquid (zucchini juices plus milk, heated gently in a pan — don’t let it get so hot that the milk curdles!). Make sure the flour is well blended and smooth.
  6. Return over moderately high heat and bring to the simmer, stirring. Remove from the heat again, stir in the blanched rice and all but 2 tablespoons of the cheese. Taste very carefully for seasoning. Turn into buttered baking dish, strew remaining cheese on top, and dribble the olive oil over the cheese.
  7. About half an hour before serving, bring to simmer on top of stove (you can skip this step if your baking dish isn’t flameproof), then set in upper third of a preheated 425-degree F oven until tian is bubbling and top has browned nicely. The rice should absorb all the liquid.

 

Copyright 2011-2014  by Jannat Marie/Jazzybeatchick. All rights Reserved.

This material has been copyrighted, feel free to share it with others; it can be distributed via social media or pingbacks or added to websites; please do not change the original content and please provide appropriate credit by including the author’s name or visual artist @ http://jazzybeatchick.com your readers shall not be charged by you under any circumstance.