Jazz is in Paris still. my heart longs to be there as well. She writes me. Sometimes what she writes is dreadfully boring. The obligatory mundane ramblings of an American in Paris. Sometimes it is quite brilliant and insightful. 

Hey Fishy,
Tell me about the show up in Delray. How was it? What songs did you perform? How large was the crowd? Did you do fun with tronics, again? If so, how'd the crowd react this time? are you all still the misunderstood artists?

Here's some more ramblings about Paris for you. Shorter this time.

I look for symbolism in life. Today, I found it in the Paris metro. Hands
gripped the steel bar. I thought about how each one told a story. One woman had
the words "carpe diem" engraved onto a silver ring. Another older, dark man had
rough hands and dry crackly skin. I thought that each of these hands were
acting out philosophies. Hard work. Seizing moments. And I thought it would be a
great idea to take a picture of just the hands on a bar. One would be of a
woman's hand wearing a wedding ring. Another might be of a child. And another
might be the woman wearing the carpe diem ring. The headline of this photograph
could read something like, Wearing Philosophies.

Funny how everyone on the metro seems to pretend the other person doesn't
exist except for the occasional "pardon." Short smiles. Tired faces. Everyone
just thinking about their own existence despite the numerous faces before them.

love ya,
Jazz

Last screening: Baraka. THIS IS A MUST SEE FILM.