The man often comes through in the notebooks, ideas for books to write, things to tell to other musicians like Davis and Mingus, a reminder of the right size suspenders to wear, admonishments on how he’s treating himself. His thinking about himself in the notebooks is self-critical, but there’s no direct line from this to the ideas that come out through his horn. But that’s the elusiveness of the great artists, they are great because they think of things others can’t, and it’s so inherent to their beings; there’s no way to explain it.