At first, Isabel would write me, saying how nice it was that Sonny was so serious about his music …show more content…
Now these are Sonny’s blues. He made the little black man on the drums know it, and the bright brown man on the horn . . . . Then they all gathered around Sonny and Sonny played. Every now and again one of them seemed to say, amen. Sonny’s fingers filled the air with life, his life . . . . Then he began to make it his. It was very beautiful because it wasn’t hurried and it was no longer a lament. I seemed to hear with what burning he had made it his, with what burning we had yet to make it ours, how we could cease lamenting. (Baldwin