Raw, adjective: 2. not having undergone processes of preparing, dressing, finishing, refining, or manufacture


Please, oh please, sit down with your Advent-blue clad self and listen to my main woman Ella Fitz scat her badass way through this incredible version of Irving Berlin's "Blue Skies." It's always been one of my favorite tunes, this, in spite of the way it veers dangerously toward the perky; the melody's perfect for humming while walking down the street by your lonesome, especially here in SF where we sidewalk-singers don't even merit a second glance from passerby accustomed to all things bizarre.

Pay attention; really listen, I mean, really listen. Throw yourself into a headstand, maybe, for the full duration of these fabulous 3:47 minutes, or a shoulderstand, if you're wanting to get a little more yin on. And notice, just notice, the yoga going on here: the in-the-moment improv, the fluid flexibility, the fearless sense of play. It's all yoga, baby. No mat necessary. You really can find it everywhere - especially in music like this - if you just open your eyes.



Ella Fitzgerald sings "Blue Skies" (YouTube)

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