Decisions

Reading Seth Godin's blog today I saw the link for the free workshop on decisions but had to act quickly before the 24 hrs of “free” was up. I love free. And More! I decided to let it go. The time to do the 50 minute workshop of which I’m sure there was much value, was going to compromise my best time to practice guitar. A good use of my tendency to have strong boundaries. Music is too important to me to let those precious morning hours slip away. 

Late in the day I stumbled upon a prompt for your six word memoir. Here’s mine: Make Music that moves our world. I do not understand why the music that comes to me does, but I do  keep showing up, Today I decided I would complete the Jumping Over Fences as the energy of the opening to this must be developed for my next release. Made good progress today because I gave myself the time and space to be present with my process. Now I have time to play a little bit more and enjoy the fruits of my practice.

Photo by Rosmarie Vegetal

Looking Within the Garden of the Mind

We are what we think. Are the stories I tell myself about life useful? Am I happy? Courageous? Productive? Look beyond the shadows these stories cast upon me and others. Plant new seeds in the garden of the mind. Changing thoughts shifts actions. New stories arise. Now is the time to begin. Am I listening Patrick? Are you?

Reflection and Gratitude

 Music is a benevolent presence constantly and readily available to all.

 Guitar Craft Aphorism. 

 I am ever so grateful for those moments when music has been available to me.   Ever so grateful when musicians have been available to me and even more grateful when someone listens.  What a gift that has been bestowed upon me through the guitar.

May my work reflect a portion of that gratitude, a portion of the love and benevolence that has been extended to me.   May I do the work needed to be open and available to the Presence.  May I remember my debt and be diligent in my offerings.  Life is short, isn't it.  Time to play, while I still can.

Photo by David Ohmer

Remembrance

August.  Always a challenge for me.  And an opportunity.  Spread out over decades I lost my Mother, Sister and Brother in the first 9 days of August.  A time to be close to those I love.  A time to remember.  Music helps me to remember and to connect.  Songs from my youth that were family favorites.  Specific pieces playing on the radio that bring back special times, special smiles.

There are pieces that arrived in my heart and hands as I have mourned them.  Two actually for my sister Elegy and Forgive Me.  Matka Boska for Mom and Forget-Me-Knot for my Brother.  On each of their respective days I play for them, play for me and my wife.  I am Blessed to have known them, to have been loved by them and to love them.  Life goes on, the losses mount as do the memories.  Keep the good ones.

Photograph by Peter James

The Shape of Things to Come

People think that stories are shaped by people. In fact, it's the other way around. 

Terry Pratchett  

This holds true for this musician also.  I've done my share of exercises, learning etudes and the works of others.  Now I find an exercise when I new piece arrives that requires an exercise to hone the execution.  What of the stories I tell myself about myself as a musician?

Changing these stories has been a very slow process, fostered partly by the words and insights of a few musicians who I respect.  Still the ones I generate myself are the most important.  Listening for the truth and building this foundation through practice is the story I am interested in today.

First Dip

Today the temperature topped out at 95 F and very humid.  The sand was hot and so was I.  As the Atlantic Ocean rolled about my toes I was shocked, stopped back and then quickly moved forward.  That cool that refreshes, the primordial ooze calling me back, comforting my skin, my soul and my desire.  Jumping through that first wave I emerged ageless. 

Frolicking about, I gave myself to the surf. The salt biting my lips.   The ebb and flow of the water moving me about releasing my tensions and drive.  Jumping, laughing and jumping again.  Total ease and freedom of movement.  Playing without thought, responding purely to the moment.

Back home I pick up my guitar.  Connecting with the present moment I wish I could manifest once again the ease and freedom of movement; to play without thought nor judgement.  Slowly the possibility approaches as the hands dance softly on the fretboard.  Waves of sound echoing in the moment, as the sands of time dissolve.  Music nudging my being as the notes played on.

Photo by Carlos Castro

The Search

Once the search is in progress, something will be found. 

Brian Eno/ Peter Schmidt

So very true.  Once again the Oblique Strategies serves up a gem. So blatantly obvious, yet beginning the search at times is just about impossible for me.  Why is this?

I must be present.  I must be present to my shortcomings and lack of knowledge.  Be willing to struggle with potentially fruitless paths.  Be willing to know that a good idea may arrive that I can not develop fully.  

Today I was going through old stuff in my basement.  Time to let go of my cassette tapes.  Glancing at the tapes I smiled often at the wonderful and diverse music that has informed my life.  I am grateful for all the musicians who have put their hearts and souls onto recordings, frequently receiving very little for a life time of work.  

But musicians play; we share our music in the venues and mediums that are available. And the world is a better place for this act of sharing.  This music I have listened to, continues to inform my searches and many others.  As has the books read, art viewed,  poetry pondered, and long walks and conversations with others.  My search is always in progress, I'm just frequently not aware of this.

Photo by Alan L

 

Where Does Music Come From?

We drove past four different Takoma Porch locations in the little over a mile drive to the site I was assigned to play today.  What a great feeling to know that all over our little city of Takoma Park, music was freely being offered to the residents and whoever cared to make the visit.  I am a bit frazzled after playing .  Heat, humidity, passing buses and the occasional train were challenging my attention.  Sweat and my guitars' tuning drifting in moments after being adjusted took their toll. A listening and attentive audience and being hosted by a lovely family made the effort worthwhile though.

I was washing my hands before going on and wondered where does music come from and why do these pieces come to me?  This first happened to me on a Guitar Craft course when I could barely play.  I was challenged to perform, was thinking about Joann and a piece of music fell into my hands.  Twenty-five years later,  from time to time, I'm thinking of someone I love and a melody appears.  Music comes to me in other ways also, but these pieces that arrive when reflecting on family and friends move me, allow me to reflect on life, and give me hope to continue searching.  My concern was do I have the ability to effectively transmit this music?  But there was no time to reflect on this concern, because it was time to go on.

Photo by Joann Malone

Listening to Now

A note has a beginning,  a middle, and an end.  Some notes and pieces of music are so exquisitely played that we never want them to end.  But they do - impermanence - everything changes. Do we so yearn for the music that has been played divinely that we dwell in the past, thus missing our present moment?  Or do we fret about how to repeat that experience in the future, again missing our present moment?

Can I listen to every note, every sound, as a bell of mindfulness inviting me to wake up - Now?

Photo by Kenny Louie

Snow Like Music Touches All

Watching the snow fall I paused to look in wonder.  To touch life right here and now.  The snow comes to the earth, touches it gently yet powerfully, much like music comes to us.  Snow changes our perceptions of life; trees highlighted differently, pathways hidden while new ones are forged.  Snow falls silently, urging me to take shelter in silence.  Looking at the trees reminds me to think in terms of the Alexander  Technique - to direct my body to be long and wide, to allow my thoughts to be forward and up.  Just as the landscape changes snowflake by snowflake, life is changed thought by thought.

Suddenly the snow shifts in the direction it releases from the sky.  Hidden forces and energy displayed before me, reminding me of my recent Qi Gong practice.  Directed movements shift the subtle energies, bring new life into the system, and opens channels not perceived in the every day.  Traveling one way; then another, yet all paths leading the journey to fulfill the aim.  Blankets of white delight the eyes; shadows shifted and revealed.  Truth calling us, showing us what is real.

What if a collective moved with the unity and direction of the snow?  Giving space and freedom to it's members as they move forth and followed the true direction of the path?  What if all of our intentions were as pure?  What if we all took time to contemplate the mysteries?  Moved with such gentleness? 
Snow like music, kisses the heart and spirit.  Snow like music, embraces all within its path.  Snow like music, changes one and all.  I can not make snow, only contemplate its truth and beauty.  I can make music, let me continue the journey and play on this day, everyday.

Photo from Tyne and Wear Archives and Museum

Heart Strings

Music should go right through you, leave some of itself inside you, and take some of you with it when it leaves. - Henry Threadgill

Sounds like the action of love to me.  As a musician do I cultivate the ability to play in such a way that the heart is stirred?  How might this be?  Do I have a connection with my own heart might be one answer.  Do I have a connection with the listener?  Do I have a connection with something greater? 

May I have the discipline to develop these connections today and always.  If not music, may I at least bring a little love into our World.

Photo by Xanna Ziskey

Surf the Edge

What happens at the edge?  Just about everything - growth, learning, art.  When you encounter a wave you surf with all that you are.  You fall, get up, surf another wave and fall again.  This is the nature of surfing.  All the while learning how to surf on the edge of water, even the edge of time.  Or you dive into the wave, into the unknown.  The water may let you go deeper water or it may slam you into the sand.  Limits are encountered and worked through.

Playing music is a form of surfing on waves of sound.  The act of playing music is where our inner world meets the outer world.  May I be alive in both.  Can I express what is in my heart, through my hands and a guitar?  Can I meet the edge in the present moment and enhance those who listen?  Will I seek the wave and ride with all of my being?

Music for Airplanes

A brief moment of quiet at the busy gate in Doha's Hameed International Airport.

So many thoughts, impressions these past couple days. Love flows.

Slept a bit on the flight from Kuala L to Doha. When coherent enough I practiced meditation until breakfast arrived.  Then I journaled about where I am, where I've been and where I might be.  A very rich morning within the plane.  With about an hour to go on the flight I decided to check out the in-flight audio offerings.  Though I tend not to listen to rock nor pop music in my early morning hours this was not quite morning and the "best of" classical music offerings did not hold interest.  

My iPod or the best of 1967?  Getting Better All the Time led the parade, moving onto Light my Fire and Let's Spend the Night Together?  Hormonal music from the time of my youth.  Energy shifting, neither good nor bad, just shifting.  What was the sound of that young man's heart as he entered his teen years?  

As I looked out the window I saw the sunrise over the Middle East.  Right on cue, the Byrds I Can See For Miles came on.  I could not have planned this. What does the sun rise sound like I wondered?  That great ball of energy that sustains our planet in a dynamic state that is astounding yet we hear nothing.  No bird song nor surf sounds today, just Mick Jagger blasting my ears in Jumpin' Jack Flash as I switched to the best of 1968.

Suddenly that riff that so captivated me as a young man arose in my ears - Pictures of Matchstick Men.  When was the last time I heard this.  Smiling, even chuckling as I listened.  Some how I knew that Tommy James & the Shondell's could not be far behind.  Contemplating the beautiful horizon of shifting tones & colors, I listened & pondered my life, our life.  Right on cue Mony Mony arrived and I was transported to Breezy Point on the Chesapeake Bay where our Church beach picnics were held.  I could see the older teens dancing to this tune, my sister amongst them.  Recalling the kegs of root beer next next to the regular keg beer and all of us being served in mugs.  The power of music to recall memories astounds me. 

While I still have an even longer flight from Doha to DC ahead of me, I'm ready for this ride to continue.  Tom Jone's Delilah blasts through the head phones as the pilot begins our descent.  The colors of sunrise so dazzling as my heart dances with joy.  My energy spikes a bit more as The Mighty Quinn by Manfred Mann arises within and without.  What was it about these lyrics that so had me in my youth?  One last glimpse of the colors of the horizon as the plane banks.  Do clouds hear I wonder?   I could not have scripted A Wonderful World by Louie Armstrong being sung as the wheels touched down on our Earth.  Truly what a wonderful world we live in, made more so by the power of music.

Photo by Andreas.

Wherein lies the balance?

Dissonance.

Consonance.

Wherein lies the balance?

When dissonance overwhelms, sometimes one must retreat.  When silence is elusive, music is one bridge back.  The voices of the past can heal the present, providing connection and hope to traditions of the ancestors, to the unknown power.  Providing connection to what is. 

Years ago,  a person  very dear to me gave me a copy of Angus Dei,  collection of choral music from the Mass.  A connection to my ancestor's search for meaning in life.  At this time of the year when the loss of the members of my immediate family sometimes becomes acute, I need to hear these voices soaring in praise of God, inspiring hope and peace in the here and now.

Photo by Procsilas Moscas

Water Sounds

Music is made of sounds; the sea is made of water.  Both are comprised of a variety of source material.  Throughout history man has turned to both for sustenance. Waves of sound wash over and heal our souls and urge are bodies to move.  Waves of water inspire our souls  and provide nourishment for our bodies. Both calm our minds.  Healing, beauty, wonder and inspiration vibrates from and within them.  In the beginning there was the word, the sound.  Waves urging life forth to explore and change, to transform.

Looking at the sea from a hilltop, one notices subtle & dramatic shades blending like harmonies.  Like notes, each drop of water assumes different characteristic based on intensity, timing and the conductor.  Residual froth from breaking waves float like staccato notes over the sea's bass drones, melodies, and counter melodies.  The sea's improvised symphony contains no wrong notes, flowing towards and informing the ever changing coda signaling the impermanence of the Universe.

Dare I play like the sea?  With no wrong notes and faith that I will reach the end in the manner needed in this ever changing moment of time?  With harmony within and about me?  Without concern - to just be the playing?  Let me look to the sea for answers while I pay attention to the inspiration of my breath; to my arms, hands and voice doing only what is necessary to invite the sounds.  May I open to the momentous now, with a spirit so wide the Divine may pass through, giving evidence of the whole, giving voice to what is needed.  Without boundaries.  Without form.  Empty.


Photo by NASA

Offering

Perhaps the most important lesson I received related to guitar practice was to just play as part of each session.  Play without concern of technique, just play and see what was available.  Doing this an occasional snippet flew out of my hands that attracted my attention.  Most of the time, I could do nothing with these phrases, but through the act of working to develop these ideas, I learned about composition and about myself.  Over time these ideas developed into pieces.  To this day, I have no idea why these pieces arrive.  When one does, I recognize that a gift has been offered to me.

The gift arrives over the bridge of discipline - my daily pursuit of practice and moving from the known towards the unknown.  Discipline allows me to travel to the edge of what I know and glimpse a tiny bit of the beyond.  Attention to what I am doing allows me to listen and discern when a gift is being offered.  Practice readies the piece to be heard by others.

Moving into the unknown space of performing is a journey to another edge.  Another gift, one which brings a new level to the creative act.  I have learned first from the experience of my teacher, now through my own practice that music changes when people listen.  Sometimes the audience also changes; sometimes the musician also.  To effect this change the musician must be available to the gift of music he has been given, to the audience, and to himself.  Nearly impossible for this musician, yet the aspiration remains, so the path to the edge is followed. 

Tonight I wonder, what might be possible, if I offer music to an audience rather than perform music?  Might the innocence of the moment the muse has whispered be enlivened again? Sounding impossible again, yet with a bit more hope.

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Freedom Restored

Today I began exploring a way of organizing the material within this blog, especially in how these writings pertain to the Alexander Technique.  Extracting themes within the technique as I have used and interpreted them seems to be a logical place to begin this organizing.  I allotted three hours to this task today so that I had enough time to really dig in and begin.  From 10 am until 2 pm with a couple brief conversations and lunch I did work at this. One short break consisted of refining two Qi Gong moves that I have been studying.  Good to relax and use the body for a few minutes and let go of the computer.

Having satisfied my commitment, I decided another break was in order before I resumed working on this project. A slightly longer break this time consisting of an AT lie down.  Seemed especially prudent to avail myself of this simple, yet powerful AT practice as I was beginning to notice I was using myself poorly, or end-gaining in pursuit of this project.  Refreshed, I rose from the floor and worked with two more Qi Gong exercises.  Free, long and wide in my body with a cleared mind,  I was ready to sit down and resume my work.  Still noticing a bit of "driven-ness," I decided to allow myself a bit more nourishment.  I removed my guitar from the case.  Gently holding her neck as I walked to my practice space, I was delighted by the freedom restored to my body, thinking, and now to my heart.

As the notes rang out, my spirit soared.  Paying attention to my use, I directed my thinking during my playing and in between pieces. Now I am adding to my body of work of learning about and applying AT.  What a difference 45 minutes can make.  How are you restoring your freedom today?

photo by Jennifer Boyer

The First Note

       
                                       Happy New Day!

This morning while shaving I had a thought about how to play with arpeggios.  I continued thinking yes, the first day of the year, it would be nice to work on a fresh and new exploration.  But what chord would serve the arpeggio?  When I want to pick up my guitar I paused.  Deciding to play my first note of this the new year with intention, I thought what note shall I play?  Eb came almost immediately to my mind. This wasn't a total surprise, as over the years there's always been something about an E flat that resonates with me.

For a moment, I thought think about another note.  But then I said no, Eb arose,  this is where I shall begin my playing for this year.  And so with care and attention I brought my hands to my guitar.  Allowing Eb to sing, I then chose an interval of the fourth and played Ab followed by a G and an E.  From here I began to play and explore, quickly finding an opening phrase.  Somewhat dark and melancholy I played this a few times and found another phrase.  Smiling as I put away my guitar as I had to attend an afternoon event with some friends.

Returning home, I was happy that I played my first note of the year with intentionality.  How might this small act of quality serve my playing for the coming year?  This one act changing everything.  Perhaps if I begin all my practice sessions with choosing one note,  I could connect all my practices throughout the year to this first practice.  Might this change me, my playing, or the world?  To extend the moment of my practicing, connecting with all that was and will be?

During the afternoon this initial phrase took on a title, Lifting the Veil. Somewhat easily the following phrases and ideas developed.  There is now a beginning, a middle, and an end to this piece and there  seems there is a connection throughout. I played this for my wife and she also felt there was a wholeness and musicality. Picking up my guitar one more time this evening I played through Lifting the Veil.  Transitions need to be worked out and fingering's remembered, but there is music within these notes.

What more could I hope for? 

Einstein Playing Haiku

Time echoed in light.

Melodies expanding space.

Einstein plays violin.

 

Days Like This

Qi Gong in the park with Master Li after a month off - Yessssssss.

An hour of practice using AT negative directions while practicing Senseless Loss.

Could hear & feel Senseless Loss coming Alive.

Letting go of determination.

 At least a bit.

Lunch in back yard with my Favorite Person in the whole world.

Discussions of the future, free of fear or worry.

This is miraculous.

Wrote first of seven Haiku today.

Where did these come from?

Beyond

Read T.S. Elliot.

Best friend in freshman year of college told me I needed to.

Still looking to come to grips with his words.

Rest

Then dinner.

Second Haiku whispers as I dress.

Two Haiku adorn program

of recital of our friend, Melinda Hamerly.

Poulenc's La Carpe was sublime.

de Falla's Nana so sweet,

While Polo enlivened.

Happy to support friend and music.

Beauty nourishes all.

Home to just play guitar.

No direction.

Less judgement.

A wish conceived.

Three

Haiku

Arrive

 To bed.

Unless another Haiku arrives.