Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 4, 2026
Remember on Sesame Street, how Bert was, like, really into pigeons? The fuck with that guy? Pigeons. Pigeons!? I think there was a gas leak in that garden apartment of his.
Close Enough for Jazz
Jazz is about self expression and intent. Orchestral playing is about precision and perfection. Perfection scares the shit out of me. Jazz is about listening and composing and riffing. Orchestral playing is about becoming a cog in a larger clock and nailing your small piece of the composition at exactly the right time in exactly the right pitch.
A recital is about all of that fucking perfection except all by yourself.
And triple tonguing is killing me.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.