Silently Falling

Late this morning I saw the news that Chris Squire had died.  Sadness entered me.  In high school I loved Yes, still do.  When Fish Out Of Water came out in 1975, at lease once a day I listened through.  Side one with Hold Out Your Hand, You By My Side and Silently Falling still gets my emotions roiling.  Such beauty and truth cast in notes and words.

I picked up my guitar and began improvising in Chris's memory.  Rather quickly a beginning surfaced and I followed along for 20 minutes or so.  The taste of music was present, but it needed development.  The sky clouded over, so I decided to take a walk in case it rained.  Sligo Creek still swollen from yesterday's deluge mimicing the flood of emotions as I thought of all the music that stirred and comforted me in my youth.  Too many great bands to list here.  Many of them possessed such masters of the guitar, that I put mine away for years because I could never be that good.  A mistake perhaps, but then life is full of them.

Returning home I picked up the guitar again.   The improvisation moved on and after a few takes I recorded what I had.  Today a special person has moved on.  I am grateful that his music remains to provide solace to my soul.  Perhaps what I discovered today may sometime comfort another.

Photo by Thomas's Pics

Sketches of Truth

This morning I was reading a blog of Susan Mossman Taylor titled Yes, and.... She talked about the actor's improvisation rule of saying Yes to what another has done in an improv setting and then adding to it.  This is not a verbal 'yes' but is an agreement to move the story along.  I've seen this in action at times and it amazes me how these improv actors create on the spot.

I was thinking of the random word association exercise by Edward de Bono I played with yesterday and decided to apply it to her blog.  Since today is the 30th day of April,  I picked the 30th word in the first paragraph which is "sketches."  Then I selected "Truth" from the next paragraph.  Hence the title of Sketches of Truth to serve as a guide to a musical improvisation.

As I pondered the word truth, understanding came to mind and resonated as an underlying theme to feed the improv.  I needed a first note and looked at her name "A" became that note.  For some reason in the early morning hour I thought Susan had six letters in the name so perhaps the rhythm could be in six.  This did not work, but a simple beautiful six note melody did arrive.  After saying Yes to this melody, I decided the next phrase would be seven notes.  When I found this the next phrase was eight notes long. A simple "adding to what had already been done.  Then I abandoned this strategy and a few simple arpeggios arrived and I found an ending.

What theme might nourish tomorrows Sketch? 

Photo by Cliff

Journey Between

In Ralph Towner's book Improvisation and Performance Techniques for Classical and Acoustic Guitar he suggested picking two chords and finding a way to relate them to one another.  This idea surfaced in my mind today so I decided to explore the possibilities again. Any two chords could work, the intent is to find a way, even more than one way to connect them.  When I've played with this before I always learn something.  Today was no different.

A simple journey into the unknown, offering a chance to respond, reflect and refine my abilities.  Another benefit is the activity makes a deposit in my imagination for future harvest.  Possibly a nugget could arrive that leads to a piece.  I'll never know if I don't pick up the guitar and explore.  Neither will you.

Photo by Dominic Alves

Keep On Stumbling

In the brush doing what it's doing, it will stumble on what one couldn't do by oneself.
- Robert Motherwell

Same holds true for fingers and why improvisation is important.  The mind can lead, as does the heart; but many times it is that stumble of the fingers that finds the chord or notes the mind would not choose.  Keep listening to the stumbles.  Plunge in.  Expect nothing, but listen.  When it's there, be grateful.

 

Exploring the Edges

 What happens when I get lost in the edge of uncertainty?

My body contorts, breathing is held, emotions flutter and my brain, well frankly I am uncertain what my brain does or does not do.  Why this set of psycho-physical reactions? Does one happen before the other or do they all arise simultaneously?  What if I were able to maintain my freedom at the 'edge?'   Instead of spinning out of control, what if I spiraled out, slowly evolving in somewhat of a pattern?

Can I make friends with the edge, my edge?

After generating these aforementioned questions, I decided to do an Alexander technique lie down.  As I lay down on the floor, the idea that I could visualize improvisations while in this very free state of the lie down arose.  Deciding to play with it, I first thought through the lie down process, allowing my body to lengthen and widen and to let go of unnecessary tension.  I began to improvise using my mind. At times I was hearing it, while at times I was seeing my fingers making choices on the fretboard. Other times it was a combination of both.

As this mental improvisation developed I noticed activity in the area of my chest and though it was not necessarily fear, some type of emotional response was developing.  Smiling, why with just this exercise on the floor would any type of emotional activity arise?   Ah, this creature I inhabit is always puzzling.  As I played with this improvisational exercise, I decided to bring my arms up from the floor mimicking the position I would have when playing the guitar.  Why not bring whatever habitual bodily identification I have regarding improvisation on the guitar into this exercise? 

After writing this I was ready to pick up the guitar, and then I recognized an opportunity to inhibit this choice.  Applying the AT directions, I again noticed this activity in the area of my chest.  Perhaps I'm just overloaded from a long week.  Or I may be probing an area that elicits a negative distracting reaction to my actions.  Or both.  Since most of my weeks are overloaded with stimulation, there is no way to rule this out.  Might I approach the edge of learning how to better live within this life of mine.
All of this from a simple withholding of implementing my act of picking up the guitar and working with the Alexander Technique instead.  Deciding that another lie down is in order I head for the floor.

During this second lie down I again experimented with visualizing an improvisation. My body was not as overwhelmed with tension this time and relished the opportunity to release even more.  There was no emotional flutter associated with this set of imagined improvisations.  I rose from the floor and decided that I would now pick up my guitar and explore improvising.  Should I mimic one of the visualizations or find a new beginning? 

I began with using the AT directions and began to play in the high register.  Gently probing what was there, I noticed the freedom in my use from the two lie downs and continued directions.  There is a definite positive effect from keeping the AT directions alive over time.  After exploring a few improvs I noticed that I was beginning to hunch inwards.  Why this drawing in of my body?  Am I "protecting" myself with this action?  Taking a short break, I then came back and decided to explore this further.

This next improvisation began to come alive.  I turned on my recorder.  Almost immediately the music stopped.  Was this the affect of my effort to capture?  Or the set of ears eliciting something negative in me?  I continued to play and explore, slowly moving out to the edge.  Music seemed to arrive again, with my body relatively free and my mind engaged, I let come what may.  Then I began an improvisation based on the structure of Gathered Hearts.  After some gentle meandering, again something came alive.  Letting go of this, I then played Gathered Hearts and then improvised some more.  I realized that in a sense I had "spiraled out" towards my edge.  Preparing the body and the mind with the lie downs and visualizations and then introducing the guitar.  Stepping out towards the edge, and then a break, followed by more steps.

A lot of questions and an approach that led to positive experiences.  More to follow I'm sure.  Stay tuned,

Energy Rising

Rough day at work today.  Thursday is my busiest day of the week and the moment I arrived the challenges began, changed, & persisted.  C'est la vie. Fortunately I have tools, a path to bring me back.  So I returned as did the challenges.  And so it went.

Arriving home I hit the floor for an Alexander Technique lie down.  Aptly called Active Rest, tonight required a constant but gentle guidance of my attention to come back to my body and release the unnecessary tension.  My mind drifting away, then a moment of noticing to direct my thoughts back to the body, back to the present moment. Slowly the tension melted into the floor.

Rising I went to my guitar and began a gentle inquisitive improvisation.  Intrigued by the melodies that arrived I continued to explore the possibilities, moving beyond my usual responses.  After 25 minutes I took a small break.

When I returned to the opening melody I decided to turn on the tape recorder.  A little over 2 minutes later I turned it off.  Almost immediately I dove into another uncharted improvisation which was spirited but led nowhere.  And then another, enjoying the musical challenge, that again led nowhere.

Pausing, I used an AT negative direction in a sense of " I am not an improvisor." I began exploring again.  One beautiful arpeggio followed another.  And then another.  Such a precious moment as I allowed this musical idea to come out.  Listening; releasing; and being open to what might arise, a sudden energetic shift occurred in the music and myself.


I spent the next hour exploring, prodding, and being delighted with the act of playing my guitar.  Without concern.  Without pressure.  Just with.

The Switch

Productive day at work today.  A consultant to our company that has a copy of Scattered Hearts was in today and raving to me about how much she and her children loved the music.  Words like this mean a lot, and have kept me going on many an occasion.  But the more we talked, the more I just wanted to leave and get home to my guitar. After dinner tonight I began thinking about the various pieces in progress, writing projects in progress, and tasks associated with both that need attention.  A bit overwhelming, and while I am forever grateful for the day job there is frequently little time and energy left.

Yet I do what I can.  Noticing that my thinking was moving in a negative direction, I knew I needed to take positive action.  I sensed the right action had nothing to do with the tasks and projects but to play some notes and allow the vibrations to harmonize my thinking and emotions.  I began an improvisation but quickly abandoned it.  Then another one, when I noticed I was being too judgmental of myself and I let go of this effort.  Switching to playing Gathered Hearts, I then stopped this as my thinking was too active and not on making music.  I paused for a moment to breathe and settle, but again the thinking was active and damning.

I began another improvisation and immediately noticed the magic of the two opening arpeggios.  My thinking quieted as I entered the moment of this unfolding improvisation.  The magic had switched on and music was whispering.  I followed as I could awash in the waves of sound, engaged in the act of music.  Returning to the opening arpeggios, I choose a different direction and was pleasantly surprised with the outcome.  Exploring this path for a bit, I paused to rest my body and notated the opening phrase.  Upon returning to the guitar, I still was intrigued with this beginning and explored this further.  When I found the improvisation was stalled, I began to play Gathered Hearts, this time from a unified space of body, mind, and spirit.  Ever so grateful for music, the guitar, and life itself.  Never sure why I can notice when the switch flips on and the creative juice trickles or flows.  So much more than I deserve, what more can I desire?

Does it Matter?

Early tonight I saw a tweet from a composer looking for ways to subdivide 19. Looking at what he has so far I noticed (3,4,3,4,5) was missing, which also looked to be fun to explore with arpeggios.  Life has been wonderfully full of late.  Besides my earlier retreat, I attended two talks by Thich Nhat Hahn this week and flew to Boston overnight for a memorial service.  Time with my guitar has been minimal this week to say the least.

After playing through Gathered Hearts, I decided to play with the subdivision of 19 that had arrived earlier.  This was good for me since I have not played much this got my right in the mode of exploring and having fun.  As I improvised with this as a frame, a few interesting ideas emerged.  Enough to engage and keep me working.  Nothing final came out of this, but something was began and this is what matters.  Nothing more, nothing less.

It Might Get Loud

One of the first things that Pedro de Alcantara noticed about my playing during Monday's lesson is that I need to develop my potential to play loud and beautiful.  I knew this, yet have never moved far in this direction.  Playing quiet fits the meditative aspects of the music that comes to me, with the exception of the introduction in Scattered Hearts.  The interesting aspect of Pedro's comment was that I when he explained this in the terms of having the latent ability within me to play loud, I understood this on some level and trusted his musicianship enough to begin working with this that night.

Throughout this week some part of my practice was devoted to a loud improvisation.  Why does loud denote reckless and even a certain ugliness in my expression?  Perhaps because when I play loud finger style on an acoustic guitar, it takes enough force that this act throws me off balance?  Thursday night while improvising loud, an interesting musical idea surfaced.  I had fun with this idea and allowed it to develop.  Finishing practicing after 11pm, I resisted blogging and went to bed.  Last night I again investigated this idea and watched as other aspects of my recent improvisations began to inform this work.  Tonight I again spent 45 minutes or so on this one idea alone.

Besides the forte introduction, faster playing has been introduced into this particular piece.  Where this will end up, I do not know.  I sense the music and am following, listening to what is needed and letting go.  Enjoying the moment of discovery and the presence of music whispering. 

Low Energy Raised

A low energy afternoon.  This seems to be becoming my norm on Sundays, in keeping with a day of rest I suppose.  Began my day with a sitting while it was still dark, followed by Qi Gong.  After breakfast I had to meet with some friends, and then ran errands.  Cleaned up items on my to do list at home, and then the energy plunge began before lunch.  I fell asleep reading Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaataje, a great based on the story of the cornet player Buddy Bolden.

Phone calls and chain saws interrupted any chance of a long nap, so back to reading.  I've been keeping up with the pauses to direct my thinking with the Alexander Technique.  Time to move onto improvising, perhaps a low energy improv is the place to begin.

As soon as I began to improvise in a gentle way, I noticed I was waking up to the moment.  I had paused and directed before opening my case, intoned my guitar gatha, and moved right into playing.  As I continued to improvise, I continued to notice my energy rise.  I moved onto a deconstruction of Kinnara, and followed this with an inquiry into dyads.  After this I quickly found a short melody and followed where I was led.  Pausing to find myself, I closed this portion of my session with a spirited rendition of Gathered Hearts.  Grateful that the act of music unleashed energy into my day.

Integration

With this commitment to Creative Pact 2011 along with my investigating improvisation, I am also allowing the Alexander Technique to facilitate my use in the act of playing.  This is subtle and frequently below the surface of my ability to capture in words.  In general, I have been thinking and thus using AT more and more in the course of my day.  Many efforts of the application of AT to my guitar practice have been captured in this blog over the past two years.  Yet those smaller moments of returning to direct my thinking while brushing my teeth, walking at work, sitting in traffic, and all the mini pauses throughout my day has intensified this month.

As I completed my sitting today, I thought of my upcoming AT lesson with Pedro de Alcantara on Monday.  How might I best prepare for this I thought?  Practice of course, I smiled, yet this is a question that is larger than one lesson.  How might I best prepare for life might be the real question.  So for this weekend I decided to pause every half hour and direct my thinking with the Alexander Technique.  To cultivate this freedom and ease of use and perhaps be in a place where I am present to absorb what I can from this lesson with Pedro.

As I approached my case after writing the above, I inhibited my action to open it.  Directing and finding myself in the space before the case, I allowed my right hand to unclasp one clasp and then while thinking to keep my neck free, I opened the rest.  Reciting my guitar gatha as I took hold of and removed the guitar, I kept the directions alive.  When I placed the guitar on my body I was free.

 I played through Gathered Hearts to set the mood and then played three short improvisations.  I was a bit amazed how easily three ideas came to me, the last one with a Bach feel to it.  I noticed towards the end of the third one that I was holding my jaw.  How often do I do this when playing, when living?

This afternoon, I began by improvising on my piece Gathered Hearts.  I was amazed at the music that could easily be generated by playing with and expanding the framework of this piece.  I then moved onto an exploring an idea generated by Pedro de Alcantara's exercise called the Cat's Leap.  Then I improvised on Gathered Hearts again and then played with Pedro's idea some more.  I noticed a bit of tension in my neck as I was playing this last improv.  Old habits die hard.


My wife arrived home and I improvised on Gathered Hearts and another free idea while she listened.  Then as she took a call, I continued improvising with various ideas for another 15-20 minutes.  Feeling free and comfortable, happy that there has been a shift in my approach and confidence. The directing on the half hour fell  apart while I was at a film with my wife and for some time before and after this.  C'est la vie, we begin again constantly.

Strength Through Clarity

Thinking about beginnings in relationship to improvisation. A clear strong musical statement is as vital to moving an improvisation along as the beginning of a composed piece of music. Tonight I focused on generating clarity in my beginnings. The first improv began with staccato notes in A major ending with a staccato fourth chord. Variations on this ensued. After turning off the tape for this first effort, I found a compelling opening in D minorish. Pushing record I was off, having fun, varying the tempo and dynamics and dropping in the occasional surprise. Noticing that I was arriving at en ending, I found a satisfying end around 2 minutes and 20 seconds.

Loud short bass notes alternating with loud staccato high notes found me delighting in the next twist and turn. Before long this felt as if I might be getting too many ideas that was sacrificing a sense of unity. At some point I stopped. Returning to my question from last week - What does mystery sound like? I began exploring dyads, allowing space and tension. I was engaged and following where I was pointed. Again I found myself where perhaps too much was being put out there, but I'm not sure. One day I may listen to all of these efforts, but the important aspect of this evening was to focus on the beginning. With these clear strong beginnings, I found the process of improvisation to be stronger and better focused.

Returning to the guitar for 6 or 7 more improvisations, I realize now that there was very little judgement of my work tonight while in the act of playing.  Accepting what was coming out as the notes played.  This is a definite quality that is vital for me to cultivate.  I recognized the end of one 'piece' because of the sense of silence that was enveloping the music.  One very sweet moment for me.   All in all a good nights work.  

Beliefs

Throughout history how many wars have been fought because of beliefs?  Throughout my life how much has been accomplished because of my beliefs?  How much left undone because of my beliefs?
Always good to examine our beliefs; good to question and maybe even let them go.

I believed I had performance anxiety so I did. Until one day I was told to trust that music would be there if I was.  I believed that the Alexander Technique was something that was valuable when done to me.  Now I know that I can direct my thinking and achieve freedom and better use of myself.  I believed I was not an improvisor, even though most of my compositions began with improvisation.  Now I know I can also take this a step further and I am.  Why?  Because I believe.  What do you believe?  Are your beliefs holding you back?  Or moving your forward?

Something Happening

              There's something happening here ....

Day 21  of spending most of my practice sessions improvising, thinking about improvising, and writing about my thinking and improvising.  Tonight I dove in, no warm up, no playing a couple familiar pieces, just into the deep end. And I swam for 40 minutes. Ideas emerging from the ether, playing them, playing with them, and moving on.  Stopped dead twice because I was "trying" too hard with my left hand.

Both of these pauses I allowed the Alexander Technique to connect me with myself, the space, and with my aim.  How did this happen?  I've been preparing the ground for years with the guitar.  Lots of working on my thinking about this aspect of music making and my ability to play and enjoy the creative act.  And tonight I let go.  No thinking, no preparing,  just playing notes and following.  Mostly the tape was running. Without listening I know there were clams, I know I got lost, and I know there was magic.  That's enough.

Long Tones Lead Listening in Improvisation

Last night I aborted a short, late, and tired session.  My entire day I was "cruising in overdrive."  Neither my body, mind, nor spirit had anything left to give, so rather than discourage myself I let go.  Tonight I was able to begin earlier in the evening, after resting from work. After my AT lie down. For some reason I took my trusty old Ovation 1867 out of the case.  Though I'm not sure when I last played her, she was really close to being in tune.

Smiling as I noticed the stickers my granddaughter had placed on her, I played through Gathered Hearts.  This piece began while we were playing around with the Ovation.  The stickers always remind me not to take myself too seriously.  Then I played Kinnara.  The thought to begin an improvisation with long tones arose and I did.  Almost instantly I realized part of why I like to begin with long tones is that I can just listen as they unfold and follow where this leads me.  I played through four more improvisations all around the 2 minute mark, all satisfying in the moment.  I don't know if it was the long tones getting my listening in gear or the reminder of the stickers to drop the seriousness that made this relaxed and fun.


After a break and a lie down I returned to the guitar.  The Breedlove this time.  The tone so lovely and so much more responsive.  Setting the mood with Here We Are, I turned my attention to improvisation.  The first one was  with fourth chords and I played with a confidence that shows me the work done here is paying off.  Onto exploring dyads and then long tones.  The thought to play what FEAr might sound like had me beginning with an Fm7 chord and moving to Em and Am before it took on it's own life. I noticed I was using myself poorly in this improv and directed my thinking while playing looking to allow release.  For the final improvisation I began with wide intervals.  Again I found myself collapsing on the guitar and again directed my thinking to lengthen and widen while continuing to play.   A good nights work completed.


Photo by Rosemary

No Mystery

For ten minutes I sat and held the question - What does mystery sound like?  The usual answer's arriving and being let go.  As I moved to open my case I looked out the window and realize I certainly know what mystery looks like.  Trees, flowers, buildings, and people.  All arising from the unknown.  The sound of a child crying arises in my mind; letting go of this and I think of laughter.  Then I am flooded with unrelated thoughts.

After tuning I sit and again ask myself the question - long tones, Gregorian Chant arise.  Suddenly I am hypersensitive to the sounds outside.  Long tones arrive again, I know I want to begin with long tones, a certain anxiousness arrives and I continue to hold this question.  Am I a madman arises in my thinking.  I begin to play and do so for nearly 4 minutes with the tape running.  Again I sit and wait,  thoughts arrive and go, and I play again for 3:45.  I did notice some collapse as I played and directed to release this as I could.  This second take 'felt' real good to me.  One more take in a similar manner and again this felt right.  A part of me wanted to listen back to the tape, but I did not.


A session later with three more improvisations all of which felt like shit. Perhaps this improvising a musical answer to this question is beyond me.  Doubts arising about my ability to undertake this challenge of spontaneous composition period.  Yet I know I'll persist with this commitment, I know this.  Discouraged, I wanted to listen to the early tapes, but decided against this for now.

Chuckling as this title for this post arrives - No Mystery.  The associative leap to Chick Corea electric band's funky masterpiece is instantaneous.  The thinking continues ... can I direct my thinking?

The Middle and a Question

The middle of the Creative Pact 2011 process is upon me.  Can I stay true to investigating how the Alexander Technique can influence improvisation for the rest of this month? So far I have and it's always nice to have help.  Morning bike rides and Qi Gong in the surf.  No demands from colleagues, patients, or their families.  More time to devote to meditation and reflection. The real bonus is time with my guitar when I'm in a refreshed state without undue time pressure to get my practice time in.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, I've been using Pedro de Alcanatara's book Indirect Procedures.  I have also begun rereading Understanding Our Mind by Thich Naht Hahn and just today reopened Creative Thinking by J.G. Bennett for the first time in years.

The first couple pages of Creative Thinking framed my practice session's today.  Improvisation is a big world, and while I doubt that in this life time I'll take up a study of jazz, there is still plenty to explore and learn.  Throughout my musical process, improvisation has always been a part of my practice, and has been the stimulus for the pieces that have come through me.   But this month, I am spending more time with improvisation.  Exploring and examining different aspects for me.  Today, I began with a simple frame of using C major.  Then I expanded this to begin with a rhythm in five.  Three different times the rhythmic aspect was quickly abandoned, as was the restraint of C major.  The music was gentle as was my use.  Even though the constraints were quickly let go, I find it good to have a beginning point.  I then moved onto improvising arpeggios in seven using fourth chords.  Lots of spirited fun here and I was able to maintain a good sense of my use.

How to enter into new improvisational spaces though?  Ask questions perhaps?  This thought was inspired by Creative Thinking.  What would mystery sound like?  What would gratitude sound like?  What would the process of moving from anger to peace sound like?  I played an improvisation on using each of these questions, with the tape machine running.  Using AT prior to beginning each improvisation entered the unknown.  During the third one, I had a greater than usual awareness of how I was using myself to play.  Each of these improvs were longer than the earlier more basic musical explorations.  And there was something about the third one that woke something up in me.

This is where Mr. Bennett's book became useful with his approach of holding the question.  During my second session of the day, I began with exploring the "anger into peace question" again.  But this time I sat with the guitar and the question, but kept rejecting the answers that I thought of - tritones, fast & intense, loud, abrasive and so on.  Sometimes hearing notes, but still inhibiting my playing.  Allowing a space to form for something new.  When I did begin to play, I just went with what came out.  Smiling when a quote from the Stone's Paint it Black arrived at the end. 

I moved onto the question of what does mystery sound like? Again, I worked with holding the question and again many thoughts arose. Eventually without an answer I allowed myself to play.  And then I repeated this process, at times aching to play, but waiting and rejecting the ideas that arose and looking for a quiet but active space to emerge.  The third time I worked with this question, the mysteries of the church of my youth came to mind.  Without thinking further I began to play.  My playing felt different.  I should add here that during this process, while rejecting thoughts I was also working to keep the AT directions alive.  The AT work was supporting the effort of holding the question, by keeping me grounded in the sense of my body while my mind was at times quite active.  Another exploration of mystery was undertaken.  I simply played open strings for a while as I held the question.  Simply listening to the stacked fifths, as thoughts came and went.  When I did begin to play I was quiet, accepting of my playing, focused in my use.  At the end of the piece, I began thinking that maybe this was a way to record a release of improvisations.

Another effort with "mystery" and the thought -<i> I don't know what mystery sounds like</i> - arrived. I have no idea how this sounded, but again I was exploring new musical areas for me and played with a confidence more akin to a composed piece.  One final effort yielded a similar result.  All told this exploration os the mystery question took me close to 40 minutes.  Each take was taped, but for me the musical outcome is not as important as the process I undertook to arrive there.  More explorations to follow.

Savouring the Unknown

After my sitting today, I improvised on an idea that arose yesterday in Amaj/Cmaj.  No measurable progress was made, but I did do the work and then enjoyed a bike ride and Qi Gong in the surf. Later I read a snippet from Pedro de Alcantara's great book on the Alexander Technique called Indirect Procedures.  Regarding fear of improvisation Pedro states:  This universal fear always manifests itself in misuse of the whole self. To learn to improvise is to lose fear and, consequently, to stop misusing the self.

What happens when I improvise?  I engage the unknown in music and in myself.  Fear ever so subtle, even manifest in playing guitar which I so dearly love.  In an Alexandrian sense what happens to my use when I play "wrong" notes or find that I do not know what to play next?  I begin to rush and I tend to collapse my upper body.  The judgement voice usually in a negative tone arises within me.  How can I use AT to help my savour the unknown?

Today I decided to improvise in various styles for just four bars.  Maintaining an awareness of my use while improvising was paramount.  If I completed four bars without collapsing the improvisation was a success.  I paused between playing through various ideas and directed my thinking via AT.  A sense of letting go emerged as I continued to play in this way.  In my use certainly, but also in my thinking about myself as an improvisor and in the music.

After a short break to write notes, I returned to this notion of improvising four bars.  A piece was developing and a moment arose where the slight fear of the unknown manifested.  I paused very briefly and thought of openness.  Bold confident notes came out and well past the four bars I found an ending.  The pause was momentary and if an audience had been present could have been perceived as a musical rest.  The pause was significant for me, showing me the power of slowing down and being open.

Another attempt yielded overall positive results.  As the improv developed and became tricky, I noticed my upper left arm was tensing and I had begun holding my breath.  I am certain that the tension had been developing beneath my level of awareness as I played.  I did not find a way to release this tension as I played.  Getting excited now I was ready to rush into the next exploration.

Sensing that I may be end gaining, I choose instead to do a lie down.  As my back hit the floor I noticed the tension in my spine.  Letting this go, I was still eager to proceed.  But I stayed with the lie down and released my neck, spine, leg, and arms.  When I did begin again - loud intense notes played at a tempo much faster than the others.  At times I felt as if I was holding on,  while at other times I felt free.  Towards the end I again noticed I was holding my breath, the very breath of life.  These three improvisations all proceeded past the four bars I had originally established and the all had a sense of music to me.  May the learning continue as I approach the middle of this month long exploration inspired by Creative Pact 2011.

Changing My Thinking About Improvisation

 

Walking to the beach, my wife reminds me to have thoughts of openness and freedom.  I meditate on this while walking in the surf.  Breathing in - I am free, breathing out - I am open.  Some of my steps are easier and lighter, as the ocean ebbs and flows around my legs, just as some thoughts and habits are easier to walk through than others.  As I continue to meditate on openness and freedom, I also allow these thoughts to be held:  I can improvise music.  I am free to create spontaneous compositions.  I am free to create music in the moment. Happy as I notice how these thoughts which just a couple weeks ago made me twitch, are now being received with ease.

      I sit and watch the ocean continuing to meditate on openness and freedom. Just as the soft breeze blows across my skin, I imagine my fingers gently caressing the strings of my guitar.  Waves of sound rising and falling, riveting and soothing.  Any note can follow any note.  Any chord can be the sound of freedom. Release the mental, confining constraints, and just be with the sounds as the music unfolds.  Be the inspired and the inspiration.  Just BE.

    What is changed when we observe our breath?  What is changed when we sense our bodies?  Coming alive to the moment of our doing, we may become open to a choice beyond our habits, a choice beyond right and wrong.  Freedom arrives, is glimpsed excitedly and then I am lost again.  If I direct my attention, freedom may again become possible.  We begin again constantly, as the Guitar Craft aphorism so aptly enlightens.  Waves of presence, followed by waves of absence, until the splash of waking up arrives once more.

    Will I allow my sands of time to be eroded by habits?  Or will I act from principle?  Train the mind?  Release the unnecessary?  Cultivate the positive?  Be open and partake of the help that is available?  Understanding that my habits are subtle and obstinate, I must have help to release them.  Habits developed over a lifetime, perhaps over many generations, do not yield overnight.  Except for the occasional, extraordinary event, habits usually unravel in a gradual but persistent release.

    This release requires discipline and dedication to principle, an intentional approach, oftentimes aided by the divine.  In any case, I have to ask for help.  Ask myself, what am I willing to commit?  Ask others who have trudged the path before me for guidance?  Plead for assistance from the unknown.  And then I practice, as often as I remember.

    When the sun rises once more, with my first waking breath, I ask again.  Grateful for another chance to train my mind and change my life, I align myself to a higher principle.  Being gentle and generous in my approach to myself and to others, I breathe in good thoughts.  And I smile as I breathe out.  Alive again, I take a step into life...and then another.  The Breath is always with me.  Am I with the Breath?  Release the unnecessary and arrive in a new place.  The present moment.  Home of the known and the unknown.  Arriving at a castle in heaven, that, for me, is made of sand.  Begin again constantly...act from principle...breathe in...release the sand.

Photo by Andy Buckland

A day of preparation                                          and consolidation.

 

When I did get to pickup my guitar, I began to improvise

with

dyads & nearby notes.

minor ninths

tritones

minor thirds.

Something happened. I went deeper. Cared even less.

Listening

Playing.

Responding

Appears my preparation and consolidation is now complete.

Screenshot from 77 Million Paintings by Brian Eno