Jennola by the Bayou

Well what can I say. When I set out writing this blog I said solo piano pieces. Because that's pretty much all I had the wherewithal to make and share.

But then I got fed up of literally cutting and pasting my musical ideas to get them into the right order. With scissors and glue glue glue.

So I bought Sibelius 7 First.

Which is a bit like having a tiny tinny orchestra living in your computer ready to play your ideas at a drop of a  hat.

So here is my first Jazz Quartet piece. Six months ago...I had no idea I'd be doing this.

Which just goes to show you never can tell.

Now this piece, as well as being a very first attempt at something new, has a bit of a history to it too. A quarter of a century history of friendship. I have no idea how I came to be old enough to have friendships this old...but there you are. 

My excellent friend Jenny is training to be a vicar. And she's on placement in New Orleans. And on her blog she wrote this about the name of her blog about this mighty fine experience. It's called Going All Jennola

Here's how she explains it...

"My brother described me this way once:  “she’s going all granola”.  You can picture what he meant.  I was in my most tomato-growing, organic English peppermint tea drinking, sandal-y kind of phase.  We’ve all been there, right?

Hence the title of this blog.

Having fallen upon the word, I have also developed a (now, not-so-secret) hope that I meet a sort of Thelonius Monk figure there who will write some gorgeous swaying kind of a piece, which will have to involve a muted trumpet, and name it this.  You’ll be the first to know.."

Idiosyncratic I may be. But I'm no Thelonious Monk. I'm hardly dapper enough. And as for the music....well I love Thelonious Monk. I could listen to him and bash my way through his tunes night and day and then some. Monk was a genius of modern music. I emphatically never will be.

At the same time I have no idea how I could've resisted the urge, in my own simple beginner way, to try and write something that corresponded to this description.

There is definitely something here of what Mr Vonnegut says about writing a poem for a friend...even a lousy poem...