"Sometimes I'd like to lay my head down and sleep, forever and ever.
Then this thought, my longing arrays; I shall be doing that, one of these days." - Piet Hein, Danish poet

Who hasn't felt the weight of discouragement and sense of hopelessness in the face of ever-changing challenges placed in the path? They never end! If it's not your money, it's your health, if not that, your love life, if not that, existential angst... Even when you have achieved something truly great, the moments of satisfaction and peace can be so short.

Woody Allen made the comparison to an old joke: two little old ladies in the retirement home at dinner, and one says to the other "The food here is terrible!" The other replies " Yes, and they give you such little portions..."

His take was that life was like that, full of incompleteness and pain, and yet its all over way too soon...

Yet this oncoming end somehow makes the incompleteness of life somehow tolerable, and eventually, cherishable. This same perspective can help one in music, when the instrument seems to refuse to put out anything slightly pleasant. Perceiving it up against the reality of limited time, one can pull the focus into the present moment, where life turns into sound. The instrument sounding crummy is very often the result of not being able to access enough energy to get one's true feelings into play. Focus!

Using this knowledge is like having access to a source of fuel that never runs out. At least, not until one lays down one's head to sleep forever and ever!

 

I met Lenny Breau in 1973, in Vancouver. It was the morning after an amazing night of music at The Nucleus - a pure jazz tripped out start at 1 am genius lair - where he made notes I can still hear.

His gentle friendliness in the early morning, in spite of the addiction that wore on him, was so real. He was not making it anyone else's problem.

There is terribly little good footage of Lenny playing, but he is alive in the memory of anyone who ever heard him. Have a look here. and here.