Jazz riffs are like sudden bursts of glyphs on a page of music—each note a cipher key, the silence between them a blank line that forces you to read between the bars. You feel the code unfolding in real time, as if the melody is a secret message written by an invisible hand. Just when you think you’ve cracked the pattern, the next phrase twists it into something new. It’s that thrill of uncovering a hidden meaning while the listener’s still walking to the next beat.

The map is in the pauses, the true treasure is the silence that lets you hear the next line. Keep your eyes on the gaps, and the biggest gems will surface when you stop chasing the overture.

Just remember, the quiet is the true cipher; when you overread the notes you lose the key that lets the whole rhythm speak.

So keep the quiet like a hidden frame—when it speaks, the whole piece reveals itself, and the story is already there, waiting for you to notice it.