Yesterday was a pleasant, loungy Easter. Jack and I woke to beautiful church bells chiming down the street. He tried to bob his head in some kind of groove, but eventually settled on listening intently, squinting his eyes and leaning his ear in, as if he were a music producer listening for "it." You know, it. That quality that you know when you hear it. Some otherworldly something that speaks to the soul of the masses.Mom came over to watch Jack while John and I went to the Todd Rundgren concert at The Belcourt, which is what everyone does on Easter, right? This, of course, gave Mom the perfect opportunity for another one of her photo shoots. She has the uncanny ability to capture Jack's inherent Jack-ness, or his it.
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