Last Sunday morning was my first time at the jam session here.
Today, my second. It is getting better, sweeter and with more substance.
Thanksgiving weekend with friends and music lovers. It’s game weekend in the US. Or shop til you drop.
Here jazz music permeates the air we breathe.
Unrehearsed of course.
But it flows. The energy, the passion and just a good passage of time together.
I feel jazz. It’s warm, sweet and penetrating.
It makes us human. Playful and painful at the same time. The headache and heartache.
Share it brother!
We take a rest to be real audience.
Forget the bills, the business of life.
Just celebrate it while living it.
Being In love.
And being here.
I am glad he is here this weekend. So I don’t have to be all the way back across the pond to hear him.
They play well together. Jam session.
The audience too. Very selective. Very very much in love with every note, every expression of seeing open soul on display.
“Sometime when we touch, the honesty too much”.
I don’t feel alone here, even at an empty table. They are after all up there jamming.
Beer half-opened and I sip mine slowly, for fear that their number will end too soon.
The Heineken you can reorder, but friendship and the mutual love for music will never die.
I wish you can be here. Not the kind of canned “I wish you a Merry Christmas” you hear all the time.
But I truly wish you an experience as valuable and unique as this one.
Pop, Jazz, French mix.
Like the city itself. Old Saigon, always adapting and thriving on chaos.
I love this city, it’s people and its multiple expressions however unrehearsed and unprepared.
It’s our best and it’s best in my eyes.