I remember on my 27th birthday alone in Berlin walking in the rain. Walking alone when you’re blind is a trick and in those days I didn’t use a cane or dog—I trusted fate and followed strangers often because of the color of their clothing.
I followed Mr. Red macintosh on Kurferstendamm and as we went along I began humming jazz standards in my head.
All good songs are yellow flowers in one’s head. Bud Powell: “Collard Greens and Black Eyed Peas”; Thelonius Monk: “Straight, No Chaser”; Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers: “Along Came Betty”. At Cafe Kranzier I shed my coat to feel rain on my arms. O Bohemian jazz boy both lonesome and strangely happy under the plane trees.
Planet of the Blind 