Resoundingly Quiet

One time 

At an outdoor concert, Monk sitting there playing, 

until it was his turn for a solo:
He just stared at the keyboard.
For 16 bars.
Plenty of time for a solo
but he just sat there and stared at the keyboard.

And then the next soloist jumped in to take his turn.
The audience applauded
wildly.

One assumes that Monk was thinking through the notes, just not actually playing them.
In one's head, it must have been an astounding progression. 

A sound assumption.
It was a heavenly movement, immanent,

transcending a genius like Monk's human ability to perform it
much less mine or your ability to understand.

Anyway, that's what I feel like, writing on my blog today, February 21^st. Some John Cage type shit, write there.  My choice.  We're all going to die.  Tell your cats you love them every chance you get.  Eat that last birthday cupcake.

"The readiness is all."
– Hamlet