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The Big Huerta Trumpets Miles Davis

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Much like Dexter Gordon, The Big Huerta blows hot and cold also. I am not Mr. Rock and Roll all of the time. I don’t always do the popcorn as I jump back, Jack! TBH likes to relax once in awhile. Light a pipe, mellow down the brights and dig me some Miles blu-ing away. Aaah yes, Mr. Miles Davis…started his training at Julliard but dug Bird Parker and soon dropped out to join Charles, replacing the ebullient one, Dizzy Gillespie. His cool jazz emerged from the bebop jamming and soon “The Birth of the Cool” came into being. His blue period soon followed and not to belittle his achievements, but due to column length restraints, his electric period followed in the later years. I dig Miles’ blue period. This man oozed coolness…even his voice was cool. Some people you wish you would have met…but not me meeting Miles. I would rather read about his pointed verbal jousts than to be the target of them. He had the reputation of being a bit surly and mean to some folks…and rightly so. Miles wasn’t treated to kindly during the civil rights days or even after.

So dig, this painting is titled “A Mean Trumpet: Miles Davis”. Supposing a trumpet (I know it’s an inanimate object but The Big Huerta throws feelings down on some objects for some reasons..he gets attached to things, like when you sell an old car…you hate to see it driven off, you sorta miss it the next morning) grew up being played by school kids and rank amateurs. What if the trumpet had dreams of one day being played by Miles Davis? Dig, relax your staid brain activity, go with the thought. So this lonely trumpet is put in the back of the closet for years but to get him through each lonely day, the trumpet dreams of Miles lovingly fingering his keys, of wiping him down (the trumpets a dude folks, sorry, and he hates Rush) of blowing cool notes of melancholia into the atmosphere, this is what gets him through the loneliness of the years. This is what this painting is all about. It’s not a portrait of Miles Davis but a portrait of yearning, to be the best that you can be. To strive forth and throw down good vibes for peeps to dig, dig!? I often throw down the color purple to represent a higher talent, a royalty, if you will. Some people have commented that the bell of the trumpet sort of reminds them of a donut. Well, I see that, and it’s all right with me, but if that were the case, well to those people, as Miles would say, “Eat ME!” Blessings and peace to you all…TBH

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