Can You See The Light?

Playing is such joy.
A mental thing.
A physical thing as well.
An orgasm that does not tire you until you finally leave the stage. How?

The mental stimulation I understand - we are expressing ideas in a symbolic language at the speed of thought. And when it works it is sublime. Even when it is not perfect it is a joy.
The physical I also understand - I am jumping and dancing and singing and sharing my inner joy with strangers who for the most part are appreciative.

Tonight I had the chance to play a local jazz club - The Club 66 - and we did a Herbie Hancock night.
Palm Grease, Watermelon Man, Chameleon, Spank-A-Lee (a favorite of mine), et cetera.

The groove was just so solid - it was palpable, a solid object in the room.
The communication was snapping.

The drummer, Ray is an old hand and smooth, not fancy but very capable of driving the beat as well as keeping it.

The bass player was focused and followed every nuance, every glance and look.

Chris, the keyboard player was in his element. He is very skilled, although somewhat eccentric.

So at first I am filling. Comping has its own rewards. When you are holding up a piece of the beat, allowing someone a sip or a wiped brow, it is satisfying in a purely productive way.
When you combine it with enhancing the sound, making it more lush and full - a joy to the heart.

I got my breaks - Love my Bennie Maupin - I am a six string sax player at heart.

But then there came a point at which the normal give and take gave way to am extended jam.
I mean we took flight.
Everybody got into it. It became a four place call and answer.
Gud Gawd - it was great!

It felt as though all of us were in the zone, simultaneously. It was wondrous. It was only when it was over that I noticed I was sweating and in need of a shower.
I feed from the light - I have seen it and need more.