As I reclined, I felt myself get high: A gradual relaxation, a sinking almost, transpired and I was gently sucked in to the armchair, lopsidedly smiling. John Coltrane, surely the most heaven-sent of all musicians, syncopated a Mixolydian short story about his Phrygian wife. St. Ethelburga’s bells chimed the midnight hour on the offbeats. So funky.
I must capture this moment.