Dear Will,

I write this to you after having returned from being lifted into chilling sonic landscapes with Keith Jarrett, Jack DeJohnette, and Gary Peacock. The three seemed very relaxed and linked, while maintaining razor-sharp precision the whole time. Very sublime. I can't really find words, it's more like an impression of the collective emotional waves of mankind lingering in the foreground of my present experience. I can already feel it drifting toward the background like a rose petal cast upon the slow but steady flowing waters of a river. Sweet to the ears, delicious to the soul.

It was quite intense to watch my mind drift into the past and future, have imaginary conversations with the people sitting next to me, even become adversarial with such mental nonsense as imaginary ushers imaginarily trying to prevent me from drinking water inside the theater because it was against the rules. And every time I would have some kind of audible reaction. A sigh, a groan, a deep exhalation. The sound, and the feeling of the physical vibration of the sound, were enough to stop the mental clutter and chatter and bring me right down on stage to become immersed in the creative juices of the universe exploding. Subtle explosions, like effervescent waters bubbling off a luscious groove and a tender story.

Keith was quite the comedian tonight, poking fun at this whole Presidential election fiasco. He related some study that was done on eight year olds in Florida where they could vote properly on the butterfly ballot without error. (Now, I don't expect you've followed the election results with quite the same zeal and detail that most folks here have, though I expect you know the thing still hasn't been decided and is a big mess.) Keith said that in the next election, as a result of the study, only eight year olds should be allowed to vote, Walt Disney characters would monitor the results, and the whole election would be overseen by Mister Rogers. Later he returned to say that Walt Disney characters could not be used, as they leaned a little too much to the "right." Not that he was making too much sense, but he got quite a few laughs, from myself included. I would've been right on the same page had the election been run by Sesame Street characters, and then we'd all just take fun bubble baths with our rubber duckies. Oh well. Keith told all his stories while wearing shades. Some folks say he has quite an ego. Whatever, he's just super cool.

There were apparently some familiar arrangements played, because as they began the crowd would applaud and cheer, though only one or two sounded familiar to me. I am still appreciative of the live recordings you have sent me over time, as they capture these moments on the audible level at least, and transmit these similar feelings. What it all became for me tonight was the perfect soundtrack for life happening.

I wanted here to wrap around to the end first, with the double-encore that sent chills over my body. The first was a rather mellow piece, sounding much like a jazz standard (though nothing is standard with these guys, and the composition was probably dreamed up on the spot). The second was a slow, soft, mostly Keith-dominated piece that was finally able to wrest emotions from within me and bring them electrically zipping across my skin into goosebumps.

I will probably share some of what I wrote here with a friend with whom I sat at the concert, a friend who is an accomplished pianist, and the folks on my e-mail list as a way to communicate the intensity of experience that can be borne on the waves of sound. I do not imagine that you will mind. And you yourself know these things of which I write, because I can wager a guess that some kind of similarly-crafted experience befell you upon finding this trio's beautiful soundscapes. And I am grateful to you, dear friend, for introducing me to it.

I look forward to drifting into a harmonious and tranquil sleep tonight, the deep essential soul-connected bass being plucked, the syncopated and tightly punctuated yet seamlessly fluid pings and brushes of the drums and cymbals, and the emotionally-charged seat-rising unpredictable journey of the ebony and ivory being tickled and stroked, painting colorful images of life manifesting on the insides of my eyes.

Sleep well, dance well, play well, be full, whole, and move from your center. Let the creative child in you pour out expressively, without limitations, boundaries, or rules. Taste the moment. With much love,