Psycho.

I listened to a podcast about psychopaths while running on an elliptical machine at the gym.  Suddenly, I saw myself, amongst all the other rat people, running on their respective equipment.  And in that moment, the possibility of psychopathic behavior didn't seem so far-fetched.  We were droids there, after all.  And isn't the elimination of empathy and emotion a key trait of psychopathology?

Here we go, Day 284: https://ia600300.us.archive.org/5/items/Improv52412/20120524200728.mp3

Double cream.

Oooh, I figured out the situation over here, and am now enjoying a melange of ripe peaches, raspberries and blackberries, under a silky blanket of English double cream.  Call it an early birthday present.

Kind of enjoyed the process today.  I wasn't happy with my first couple of improvs, so changed my approach, and ended up liking the outcome.  Sounds like progress to me.

Here we go, Day 282: https://ia600308.us.archive.org/21/items/Improv52212/20120522210441.mp3

Park culture.

I love beautiful, bright, warm days, when I can go to my spot in the park, meet some of the best people ever, be handed an icy cold beverage in the hot sun, rough and tumble on the lawn, people watch, laugh at stupid jokes, toss the ol' frisbee around, pick a time to meet for dinner at my favorite restaurant, and walk home with grass stains on my bare feet.

There's a lot to be said for hard work and discipline, but that always has to find its balance with these other moments of exquisite life. 

The soreness I will surely feel in my throwing arm tomorrow will be pleasantly welcomed, as a remembrance of today's joys.

The improv found an easy path... ideas came.

Here we go, Day 279: https://ia600807.us.archive.org/30/items/Improv51912/20120519152027.mp3

Unharmony.

Yesterday was the second time that a jazz pianist told me that they felt a glimmer of envy for the fact that I improvised without an instant knowledge of harmony.  It's funny... since I started this whole project, and even before, I always felt inferior for not having that.  And it's a big reason why I wanted to start jazz lessons.  I felt like I "should" follow that precedent.

But it made sense.  He told me that when he hears a collection of tones, he can't help but relate it to a harmonic structure, and in that vein, finds it difficult to deviate from the tradition.  And therefore found surprises and unpredictability in my improvisations.

Funny that what I assumed was a defect is, through another set of eyes, seen as a virtue.  I'm not going to argue with that... I'll take what I can get.

...but I'm still going to try to learn harmonic improvisation.

Here we go, Day 278: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/11/items/Improv51812/20120518190701.mp3

Freedom.

I spent a good deal of time speaking with an old friend yesterday about what we're doing with our lives.  It was surprising to me that, though he is successfully touring around the world as a concert pianist, he's not even sure if he likes playing piano.  And I had to ask him, "Why would you put yourself through all of that if you don't even like it?"  Being a musician is so difficult and stressful.  It doesn't seem worth the strain unless you can't live without it.

He says he did it because of his Tiger Mom.  He recalls the moment when she cried after he told her he wanted to quit at 15.  (He was already a student at Curtis at the time.)  And that guilt is what made him continue.

And now, he's 33 and trying to figure out how he can retire by 40.  At this point, all his efforts go toward earning money.  And he talks about it ravenously.  I asked... "What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to buy my freedom,"  he said.

I told him I already feel free.  And then realized that I have something rare.  I'm not sure if it's because of the values that my parents instilled in me, or just by virtue of my personality that I feel this way.  But I'm pretty certain that freedom is hard to come by.  And so I felt lucky at that moment.  And a little sad, too.  And sort of confused, but ascertaining some understanding.

Interesting, the things that drive us.  And the long lost reasons for which.

Here we go, Day 276: https://ia600400.us.archive.org/13/items/Improv51612/20120516214109.mp3

Reasons.

Again, I feel a little bit ashamed that I haven't written more in these past few weeks.  But take comfort in the fact that the reason is because life, as it occurs outside of cyberspace, is taking me to the places that I can only contemplate in this Little Blog.  The practice of all of these ideas in reality is what has stolen me away from here, and just for the moment.  Don't worry... I will be back.  I prefer to live these things anyway... test out my conclusions, see if they work in the real world, gather more information to fuel my next philosophical discussion.  I miss you, too, Little Blog, but the interactions that can be shared out there have to be experienced.  Otherwise this all means nothing.  I can't very well talk about truth, time, or tempest without being a part of that very meandering, confusing, webby whirlwind.  After all....

So, I'll be back, and up to my old, long-winded, esoteric posts in no time.  Probably will just take a little patience.  Of course, I'll see you soon... tomorrow with another post, another improv.

Here we go, Day 274: https://ia902703.us.archive.org/8/items/Improv51412/20120514212558.mp3

Conflict.

What I miss sometimes is conflict.  That's what makes a story a good one, anyway, right?

I was talking with Mom tonight, and we were discussing the emptiness of "easy" art.  And that it can be beautiful and nice, and have traits that are aesthetically pleasing, but it is incapable of moving us.  There's nothing that offends, or provokes question.  And that's why people like it.  Because they can have something nice on their wall that looks good, without having to feel strongly about it.  Because it takes effort to feel and understand.  At least it takes something out from us.  To feel anything hurts.  And knowing one extreme implies knowing the other.

And that kind of art ("easy"), to me, anyway, is static.  It's annoying noise; more nuisance than anything else.  And when I play an improv that sounds sort of nice, but has no conflict, it really irks me.  I'd so much rather make something ugly than something flat.  And when I avoid risk, it's so much harder to create conflict, for obvious reasons.

Anyway, take from this what you will.  It's all pretty cliche stuff, but worth the reminder.  What is it that we hope to accomplish with our art?  Is it purely self-expression?  Are we trying to make a buck?  Are we seeking to influence?  Playing out a concept?  Pandering to the masses?

Here we go, Day 271: https://ia800307.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv51112/20120511210956.mp3


Eyes wide shut.

On improv:

My eyes keep opening and closing. It's so frustrating in those moments when they are closed.  I feel blind, clumsy and slow.  But I think sometimes that when I close them, I'm seeing something important... although not quite clear.  Like an idea or dream that comes moments before real sleep begins.  And whatever realizations I may have had are blinked away the instant I've gained consciousness.

I know that brilliance doesn't come with the snap of a finger.  But sometimes the ebb and flow of learning is hard to take, when all you want is to know.

On today's improv in particular, I had the hardest time finding a place where I didn't feel stunted.  And finally, I found a zone where I completely wandered everywhere, with carefree abandon.  The paths went, and I followed.

Here we go, Day 270: https://ia800308.us.archive.org/15/items/Improv51012/20120510204111.mp3