Practice Art Farmer improv method religiously.
Q1—I've been inconsistent in my practice. Will recommit.
Q2 — Doing a little better with this. Teaching helps.
Finish writing Jazz Noir material for 2016 recording.
Q1—Wrote 3 new charts. 2 are keepers. More to come.
Q2 — Now have more than enough material and ready to record.
Create and learn fresh DMG sets: 11 tunes, 2 original.
Q2 — Focused on next season’s material now.
Pay health insurance first every month, no matter what.
Q1—So far, so good!
Q2 — Ditto.
Walk or swim daily. Lose 5 pounds monthly, 60 by year-end.
Q1— Down 16 pounds since Jan 1.
Q2 — Cut 36 pounds since Jan 1.
Increase number of workshops nationally from 54 to 100.
Q1—Way behind; only 23 booked so far. Redoubling my efforts.
Q2 — Some progress; 39 booked. Still at it.
Increase touring income by 20% while playing 20 fewer shows.
Q1—Results are mixed: so far I'm working more but making less.
Net income YTD is 43% greater than in Q1 2014, but 40% short of goal,
and per gig average is only 88% of 2014 levels.
Q2 — Still working more, making less...
Bump per gig average by 5% and increase total net income by 27%.
Q1—Not looking good (see above). Imperative that we book considerably more workshops this fall.
Q2 — Ditto.
Eschew cynicism, laugh often and see the best in people.
Q1—They don't make it easy but I'm mostly grateful and happy.
Q2 — Life is good.
When the time is right, get a dog!
Q2 — Soon!
I'm a young man, proud to be a member of the prestigious Philosopher's Forum.
Our meeting place is a stately hall with white columns, not unlike a Roman temple, perched atop a steep hill.
The names of the great philosophers, our wise elders, are chiseled on the marble wall.
There's a grand salon where the elders speak and an archive where their lectures are recorded for posterity.
Our favorite days are when the elders visit to share their life experiences and ideas.
My friends and I gather in the grand salon, listen attentively and ask many questions.
Afterward we meet in the archive to read the great lectures of the past.
We passionately debate the nuances and meaning of every phrase.
It's now decades later.
I'm honored to have been invited to speak at the Forum, but when I arrive, it is not as I remember.
The columns are crumbling and the marble wall is covered in graffiti.
The names of the elders, long dead, are barely legible beneath the chaotic scrawl.
The grand salon has been carved up into dozens of tiny rooms.
There are too many speakers and everyone is shouting.
I struggle to communicate with a restless young audience.
They seem distracted and have no questions.
Afterward, I ask if I may visit the archive.
“Yeah, we don't really have that anymore,” I'm told.
“It's a Chipotle now.”
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,6
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.