When I sat down to begin the very first of these many blog entries, I said to myself, "There shall be no rules." And I tried to forget everything that I presupposed. But I also tried to make something that was going to go someplace. Maybe that was my first mistake.
My mom said to me about two weeks into the project that she didn't understand the music. That she didn't get it, but at the same time it didn't sound like just anyone. It wasn't the mayhem of a child touching the instrument for the first time. All the improvs sounded similar, even though they were all completely different. My mom is not a trained musician, though she did sit through almost every piano lesson I've ever had until I was 18. Her feedback was pretty much spot on, if you ask me.
I don't know why it matters, the feedback. And really, truly, honestly, I value the criticisms as much as the praises. If there really are no rules, why do I care what other people think? Maybe I don't trust my own instincts?
I was chatting with Steve the other evening, and he was saying that when he believed he had created something that was really, really good, he didn't ask anyone else what they thought. But if he needed to ask, it was because he subconsciously knew there was something wrong with the work. Hmmm. Food for thought. I don't think I'm as self-assured about my own creations to be able to use that gauge.
Isn't it difficult, though, to be so honest with oneself? Or step outside of our own perspective? I find that judgement is so changed by time. I asked a question a handful of posts ago referring to these recordings sounding so different from one day to the next. The data didn't change... so is it me? And if I hear it differently tomorrow, how differently will I hear it in a year? From experience, I know that the answer is: very differently.
That puts us artists in a difficult position to self-assess. Maybe that is why the feedback matters. I want to create something that people value. I don't know why it's not enough for me to value it. But I, just now, got interrupted by my logo designer. She gave us at least the twelfth draft, completely different from the others, of a brand new logo, that Akiko and I adore. And as I wrote her to tell her how happy we are, she said, "There's nothing like giving people something that they love." Ah, now I gets it.
And so...
Here we go, Day 85: https://ia600702.us.archive.org/15/items/Improv11711/11_7_119_43Pm.mp3
My mom said to me about two weeks into the project that she didn't understand the music. That she didn't get it, but at the same time it didn't sound like just anyone. It wasn't the mayhem of a child touching the instrument for the first time. All the improvs sounded similar, even though they were all completely different. My mom is not a trained musician, though she did sit through almost every piano lesson I've ever had until I was 18. Her feedback was pretty much spot on, if you ask me.
I don't know why it matters, the feedback. And really, truly, honestly, I value the criticisms as much as the praises. If there really are no rules, why do I care what other people think? Maybe I don't trust my own instincts?
I was chatting with Steve the other evening, and he was saying that when he believed he had created something that was really, really good, he didn't ask anyone else what they thought. But if he needed to ask, it was because he subconsciously knew there was something wrong with the work. Hmmm. Food for thought. I don't think I'm as self-assured about my own creations to be able to use that gauge.
Isn't it difficult, though, to be so honest with oneself? Or step outside of our own perspective? I find that judgement is so changed by time. I asked a question a handful of posts ago referring to these recordings sounding so different from one day to the next. The data didn't change... so is it me? And if I hear it differently tomorrow, how differently will I hear it in a year? From experience, I know that the answer is: very differently.
That puts us artists in a difficult position to self-assess. Maybe that is why the feedback matters. I want to create something that people value. I don't know why it's not enough for me to value it. But I, just now, got interrupted by my logo designer. She gave us at least the twelfth draft, completely different from the others, of a brand new logo, that Akiko and I adore. And as I wrote her to tell her how happy we are, she said, "There's nothing like giving people something that they love." Ah, now I gets it.
And so...
Here we go, Day 85: https://ia600702.us.archive.org/15/items/Improv11711/11_7_119_43Pm.mp3