The Elephant Room

I'm in Austin, Texas for 2 days, so last night I went to the Elephant Room, a nice jazz hang, and sat in with the band for a tune. I did Morning. I brought my maracas and played them instead of the usual guiro, since the guiro took up too much space in my suitcase. It was fun, and I liked the music, especially when they played Caravan with a nice second line New Orleans rhythm on the drumset and 2 horns and a flute.

It is so hot and humid here, but really green, surprisingly. Reminds me of the weather when I was in college, going to pre-season soccer. I want to go for a run along Town Lake but am not sure if I can handle this 90-degree heat. I like the birds here. Blackbirds with really long tails. Haven't seen the bats come out from under the bridge yet. Ooh, that reminds me that I was thinking the other day my usual hamster-on-a-wheel existential thoughts about music and what songs to write and what should they mean. I thought of Monet, who found this unique focus on capturing the light, the changing light, and how laboriously he worked his haystacks canvasses to show with layers and layers of paint the brilliance of one moment of the setting sun. I thought it could be cool to try to do the same thing with songs about nature. Like Peter Mathiessen, only in song. When I try to think about songs about nature, though, the only thing that comes to mind is "don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone, they paved paradise, put up a parking lot" by Joni Mitchell.