He, along with Bird Parker and many other Jazz Greats, often played for Jazz at the Philharmonic, JATP. Their records did a lot to publicize and further instill Jazz as an up and coming musical form. That is, beyond those places and states where it seems the music of jazz was a way of life, born before records themselves. That was mainly in the south, and then New York, Detroit, and Chicago.
Luckily, I managed to hang on to the JATP among my collection, and I still have them. Of course occasions such as this prompt me to play some of that music! And jazz, it seems for many of us, must be played loudly.
Again late, my friends. Apparently I am only able to acknowledge birthdays a day past. Nonetheless, here it is.
Gary Snyder…sometimes called the poet of the earth. Some of his poems transcend, may cause an altered state. A caution might precede the poetry: warning, may cause thinking, even loving.
Beat hero, steward of the earth, Zen Buddhist—in his mid-eighties, poet Gary Snyder looks back on an honorable life at the leading edge.
Gary Snyder. Photo by Festival of Faiths. In Lion’s Roar Buddhist Magazine
I want to share a GS poem with you. Here’s one.
My home was at Cold Mountain from the start,
Rambling among the hills, far from trouble.
Gone, and a million things leave no trace
Loosed, and it flows through the galaxies
A fountain of light, into the very mind—
Not a thing, and yet it appears before me;
Now I know the pearl of the Buddha-nature
Know its use: a boundless perfect sphere.
Writers Ink—Writing and Stuff 