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My first performance beyond my backyard was at school when I was six. If I am not mistaken it was during my Elementary School end of term pageant. The story: Vinícius de Moraes had written a book in verses for children, adapting the story of Noah’s Ark. The book became a hugely successful TV special, with songs written and performed by great names of the Brazilian popular music, such as Chico Buarque, Moraes Moreira and Elis Regina.

My school’s end-of-year pageant consisted of performing some numbers inspired in the hit musical. The students sang and danced dressed like the animals represented in the songs. There were the lions, the elephants, the giraffes. My class got the song about bees. Our costume consisted of a white T-shirt and shorts and orange cellophane wings attached to the shoulders by a fragile wire base, the same used in the “antennas”, held in a hair bow and finished with styrofoam balls covered in glitter.

This wonderful childhood memory was my only experience with bees and I don’t think the fact that being a consumer of honey, propolis and pollen makes me a queen bee, but the fact is that the bees in the neighborhood apparently feel good in my life. home, with a special preference for the kitchen. They´ve found a minimal space in the anointing between the sink and the wall that apparently holds water and turned it into a drinking fountain. Rumor has it that they plan to build a spa on the site.

Anyway, I can’t be angry with such ingenious and (why not say?) sweet creatures. On top of that, threatened with extinction by human actions! Let´s face it: tecnally, if someone had to leave, that would be me. Although I have the slight impression that I am being manipulated by the bees, the fact is that I had to learn to live with them and until now we´ve managed to share the space quite well: they leave, respectfully, every time I start cooking or washing the dishes and return as soon as they realize the coast is clear, so to speak.

Maybe I am able to communicate with them (I just forgot how) or maybe they just liked my elementary school performance. Maybe I will find out someday. Until then, as the song of my childhood said: come and see how they give honey, the bees of the sky!

Bee seeing you 😉

G.F.

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Karma Chameleon is one of the hits of the 1980´s UK new wave band Culture Club. Bandleader Boy George once said in an interview it was “about the terrible fear of alienation that people have, the fear of standing up for one thing. (…) Basically, if you aren’t true, if you don’t act like you feel, then you get Karma-justice, that’s nature’s way of paying you back.”

The song came to my mind last week, when dear musician friend S. asked: “What is it, that makes you so passionate about Jazz?”. Good one, don´t you think? The kind of question that demands some time of reflection. My answer was: “It makes me feel at home”. I thought it was quite a clever one, somehow enigmatic, sincere without being obvious, but then I got greedy and added: “And a bit of Karma, as well.” Do you know the saying: There is no greater disaster than greed?

S. asked me to elaborate. Karma, jazz, home. Each one of these words represent a complex concept, but first of all, I shall clarify that I meant Karma not as fate, but rather as destiny, your mission, you know, the one thing that you got to do in order ‘to be true’. So far, so good? Great! Now read the title of the post again and I will explain the ‘feeling at home’ part.

Chances are you´ve recognized the first original verse of ‘Desafinado’ (Off Key), by Antônio Carlos Jobim and Newton Mendonça, worldly famous in the voice of João Gilberto. The lyrics begin with: ‘If you say my singing is off key, my love…’, a sentence that resonates to most comments to my singing style made during my childhood and teenage years. Unfortunately, I did not know this tune so well by then and therefore lost the opportunity of replying using another verse of it: ‘Isso é Bossa Nova, isso é muito natural’ (this is Bossa Nova, naturally).

I do remember quite well though, saying to playmates who claimed I was always “changing the songs” and “singing them wrong” that there was no point at all in simply imitating the singers. How old was I? Six, maybe seven. A little jazzy soul trying to explain that it don´t mean a thing, if you ain´t got that swing. Did they get me? Nope. Nor did many musicians who crossed my way during my learning years.

Sometimes it takes a while to find your way home but, once there, it all makes sense.

Be seeing you!

G.F.