A kaddish for Talia’s neighbor, murdered in his house this morning; may he rest in peace, and may his poor widow find peace herself somehow too.
Ward Spangler, percussionist extraordinaire, sat down at my piano and started noodling. I picked up my flügelhorn, and we jammed.
A little over a year ago, my friend Louise’s sister Dona died. My brother and I worked with Louise at Hardee’s. We all went to high school together. Suffice it to say, Dona’s death was way too young.
I keep sitting down at the piano thinking I’ll be able to harmonize “Kaddish” the way I hear it in my imagination, but it never comes out quite right. This one’s a little closer, but I think I’m going to have to spend time with pencil and paper.
Still trying to adjust to a household in transition. I don’t have any horns out, so I play a “Kaddish” on piano.
Recently I’d been telling a friend how I liked that this household division was leaving my house much less full of stuff, how I wanted to have less stuff, and I heard myself saying that even my 7′ piano seemed negotiable. I was wrong about that.
With my studio Apple out for repairs, I’m back to primitive recording equipment. Meanwhile, I’ve succumbed finally to the cold that has been threatening for about a week, so tonight’s Kaddish was an improvisation on piano.