I'm not saying that Bill Evans and Robert Creeley are my two favorites--they are among my favorites of course--but they are two in a special category in that I have periods where I crave their work intensely, as though they were chocolate or some other craveable substance. When I want Creeley nothing else will substitute. There are other musicians or poets that I like just as much, but for whom i never feel that sense of an itch that can only be scratched one way.

About Bud Powell, on the other hand, I feel a sense that I do not want him to stop. As far as i'm concerned he could play 3,000 choruses of "Bouncing With Bud" and I would be perfectly happy.