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Is this you? 

        THE  SAXIST             THE   QUASHED            THE  SAX  QUASHER  






If you're joining my faith, cool, but there may be less than meets the eye.

There was a drawing I did called John the Saxist in the 70's. He's about to leap (in the womb) and already has both his saxophone and his muse in there with him. Since then I have become the Sax Object, the Saxist has already anointed me. You may not want to go as far as  the Sax Messiah. One has to draw the line.

If you need more pictures I can help you find them.

Lately I'm working on the word parodies  Sasquatch and Sax Quash; while Sasquatch may only be a legendary beast the sax quasher is real. Sax quashing is a monstrous ordeal, caused by a inner dragon that can never be slain, like Grendel, he lives beneath the world in some unreachable darkness beyond reason.

When I stood eyes-closed, playing, bathed in my own pure light of jazz-thought, hideous people would pass by and say things that could only be from jealousy, hatred and infantile disappointment. My music has never been about me personally, I pray to the gods of music
by playing from an inner epistle.

People take their own importance more seriously than ever in this century. What ever happened to appreciation of hard work and the inner faith that makes it possible?    

Other sax quashers will seduce and lure the sax into bed where things usually go terribly wrong. Call it a case of music hang-ups vs. the cell-o-bed, that is the busy ever popular horn vs. the lovely dreamer of personal fantasy. The sax cannot explain everything it is doing every minute of the day. Sax music cannot stay anywhere for long no matter how much the seducer effuses the passionate love of sax music. It's the sax symbol that is the real turn on. Sax in bed, however, is very difficult, as is sax in outer space. Where does the sax go when it's finished? All that music tends to clutter up the place. Manuscripts, charts, equipment, stands, mics, speakers, wires, hundreds of wires and widgets. And then there's the matter of the horn... no matter how big or small the horn it's cold. 25 pounds of brass can hardly ever warm itself enough to please anyone. Then comes the note - be out by tonight or everything's going out on the curb. The sax often ends up in a way-out jazz club alternate universe where only bebop is spoken.

Every instrument has it's own saga, this is only one of them.          See More - Sax Life
Look for more Sax liveliness here at Shockoe Reader

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