Trust in the You of Now

 

Trust in the you of now

One of  my favorite Oblique Strategies formulated by Brain Eno and Peter Schmidt in 1975. What more could I ask of myself? I am always changing; life is always changing.  I'm not the musician I used to be nor am I the one I will become. Thus I need to trust my intuitions, trust when I 'feel' inadequate and arrive back in the here and now.

Knowing where I am right now a bridge from the possible to the impossible resides.  Arriving, trusting, and moving from where I am is an ongoing process.  A process I must reengage with over and over. Wherein lies the source?  Right here.  Right now.

One That Almost Got Away

Another tired Friday evening.  I was trying to convince myself to take the night off.  One good decision I made was to at least begin with my AT lie down.  Once the energy began to flow, I reasoned I might as well play a few pieces.  I could take the night off from my improvisation exploration, just have a little fun with music.  Let the strings sooth my soul.

I placed the partial capo in the second position ready to play Gathered Hearts, and instead I began to improvise.  Gently probing, listening, and my thinking turned again to Eno.  A dyad caught my ear, followed by an arpeggio and we drifted along.  As one fragment followed another, I arrived at an ending.  No tape was rolling, so I began again.  My SD card is full and I did not want the distraction of making room, so I kept playing.  Eventually I decided to notate the beginning.

While doing this I turned on 77 Million Paintings, writing, playing ideas on the guitar, watching the images unfold.  The musical fragments grew and while the sense of the 'piece' remained, I took more chances.  As I did this, my legs began tensing and I found I had lost all sense of myself.  Pausing to direct my thinking with AT, I returned to the images onscreen and to the images being drawn by the notes.  The primary ideas are on paper and I trust the spirit of the piece is in me and will return. I'll resist pushing hard and prepare myself for another day.

Screenshot from  77 Million Paintings.

Oblique Improvising

Long day at work today followed by a long wet commute home.  I had a brief time available to play guitar before I went to a friend's celebration.  I languished a bit with my AT lie down, enjoying the release this simple but powerful practice offers.  Reinforcing the thought that improvising is easy to do, I began.  Flat, uninspired,  more flat - simply the reality of where I was.  The judging thoughts tried to impose themselves on me, and to a degree they did.  Returning to what worked last night I did enjoy improvising around the arpeggios in fourths and sixths again.

Returning home at 9:45 pm, I was ready to call this a night.  Yet I felt as if I had not made an effort with my commitment to the Creative Pact 2011 project.  I know the value of honoring commitments, and tiredness is not a reason to let go of what I needed to do.  As I thought of what to do, Brian Eno came to mind.  What would Eno do, to find a way past his habits and be open to music.  The thought that arrived was to fire up my copy of 77 Million Paintings and improvise a soundtrack.  Sparse, simple, and Enoish moments came and went, replaced by other moments.  Watching the changing  collage of color, lines, shapes offered me a focus.

The time flowed gently.  I thought that I was not thinking about the Alexander Technique much.  Smiling I let this pass, and played on.   Very occasionally wishing for my neck to be free. Just releasing the notes from within this space the images and overall influence of Eno created.  Yes, improvising is easy to do ...


Screenshot from Brian Eno's 77 Million Paintings.

Remember Quiet Evenings

 




Lately, just about all of my guitar time has been evaluating a guitar that I'll soon be calling mine.  While doing this I have been mostly playing pieces, enjoying the feel and tone of the instrument.  Tonight after taking a break from playing to do a lie down, I decided it was time to work with something new.

I recalled that earlier in the day, while cleaning out a box of papers and magazines  I came across a sketch of a piece that also had been taped from December of 2009.  The working title was Gratitude and a month later I added the title of Remember Quiet Evenings in parentheses.  This phrase being from one of the sets of Eno's Oblique Strategies, aptly captured the sentiment of this sketch.  Tonight I listened to the two takes I had and transcribed the part that was missing.

I began playing with what I had and the notes began to flow.  An ending still eludes me, but progress was made.  I felt good to work with transcribing which I resist and then to have the piece begin to open up.  For now I'll let go of the sketch and enjoy the remainder of this quiet evening with my novel - Olympus by Dan Simmons.

                          Photo by tj Matthews