junecleavage

There is this fantastic Dylan documentary on PBS right now - just highlighting the swank days, including some phenomenal interview footage in which his mastery of the poignant shines through as well as featuring a ton of cameo input from various cool cats from his hey day - ferlinghetti, ginsberg, etc. and so forth. Our son is just captivated by it. He completely stops and centers in when anything involving music enters his realm. It is absolutely amazing to witness and further still to partake in. I've said before that childhood, infancy in particular, is a world of firsts - and by being involved we, as parents, have this grand luxury of revisiting moments through the eyes of a first time experience. First breath of wind on your face, first touch of a passionate sun ray across your head, the sound of instruments playing together in a cacaphony of expression - it's all new and awe inspiring and perplexing and magical - all at once. He gets a very determined look on his face and baby howls along. It makes me feel like life can be a dream when you appreciate moments such as these. Sam was saying this morning how he hopes these will be some of his first memories of childhood our French kitchen awash in early morning jazz and coffee. Dancing in the kitchen this morning as the sun was still fighting its own alarm clock ~ jazz tickled the spots before my bleary eyes as I held him close ~ he rested his beautiful little fuzzy head against my cheek and we swayed back and forth ~ it was the most pure and deep love I have ever felt in my entire life.
Perfection like this makes sense.
The rest of it is just a sideshow.