…Rick looked at
Smoke Jordan’s black face shinning above a magnificent collection of
white-skinned drums, and he saw how much the same he was. Same one that used to
do the hot sweeping at Gandy’s, only that one wore yellow cords and this one
wore a white tuxedo…His eyes were turned obliquely upward and he chewed his
lower lip all the while he played; then he’d knock out a beauty and turn his
eyes down, startled, as if he’d surprised even himself with that one…
The above passage is from Young Man with a Horn, Dorothy
Baker’s 1930’s classic novel on the jazz age.
But whether it be jazz, poetry or theater,
the creative feeling when things go well is the same. It is the feeling I get
when I succeed in capturing the subtle beauty of the nude in watercolour. Did I do
that!
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