I'm listening to jazz on the radio and this sax or trumpet solo starts playing. I say "or" because I'm not really sure which instrument it is: the sound is so altered. It was like someone was singing through a trumpet and forcing their vocal chords to move enough air to actually make the trumpet sound.
It made me remember how perfect and beautiful the imperfections of jazz can be. It's one of the most important factors to jazz music: that organic, imperfect tonality that oozes with human emotion.
This made a clear impression on me at that moment in time. We find beauty and emotional connection to things that are slightly imperfect. So much so that being human is synonymous with being imperfect. But obviously this isn't the case the majority of the time. We create order to chaos. Machines help us control our lives and create automation. Yet we're all still attracted to elements that are random and unorganized in our lives. Maybe it's the inspiration we take from nature and where we come from as living breathing creatures vs. perfect machines.