miles_davis raze his eyes are calm but intense. he looks like a boxer sizing up his prey, knowing he's won before the first punch has been thrown. he makes his horn speak the language of cool, long nights spent walking around inside your own mind. he takes a break, smokes a cigarette, listens to coltrane spit his soul into the saxophone. miles comes back, vamps with the band, makes some more of that pensive evening sound. "so_what?" he says. 130404 ... unhinged i used to have a clipping of a picture of him from one of the weekly newspapers (back when milwaukee had more than one weekly paper) on my fridge. it was a funny, kinda creepy picture. his eyes wide, both his hands on either side of his face, shocked, kinda ghostly. there was something about it that made me smile. 130405 ... no reason happy (posthumous) birthday to him 130526 what's it to you? who go blather from