Monday, March 21, 2011
I'm on vacation from the day job this week, this time just a week to be at home. Vacation comes from the Latin root - vacare: to be empty. I began my emptying by attending a silent meditation retreat this weekend. Such a precious time, a needed time for me.
Awakened this morning by thunderclap so loud, that Zeus must have been very angry, I tried to return to dreamland but could not. Happy to have the opportunity to pick up my guitar in the early morning, but I found my playing was off and uninspired. I continued until it was time to leave for a meeting. My afternoon and early evening were dedicated to tax preparation and errands. When my tax work was done for the evening, I picked up my guitar again. Just playing for fun, I eventually ripped off a good take on Dandelion Wish which I had not played for a while now. The hour was late and this seemed to be a good place to complete my playing for the evening.
Suddenly I found myself playing a percussive bass line and knew I needed to follow where this might lead me. Yes it was already 10:20 pm, but when the whisper of music is present, I wake up. I played around with this bass line to see where we might go. When this seemed as if this was all there was, I turned on the tape machine and then notated what I had. Still ready for more, the muse was silent. I can still play this line in my head and will rest, perhaps tomorrow, we will progress with this, perhaps not. Why do these musical ideas so frequently arrive late at night?