Anyone who knows me reasonably well knows that I have been through hell, that I lost everything in my life save my breath, and that I have nonetheless managed to persevere and overcome a multitude of obtacles that seem to multiply with each slaying. The one thing that makes me able to continue this Sisyphusian adventure called My Life is playing, writing, listening and studying music. Although I am not as observant in my religious practice as I would prefer, music is communion with the divine, and a purer prayer and exhaltation than the rote recitation of particular prayers at particular times of day. Beautiful music is the one thing the entire world can come together in with peace. Music is the one thing that elates my soul when darkness surrounds me.
When I was suffering from my deepest depression, I wrote most of my best songs. Through music, there is a catalytic conversion of pain and sorrow to beauty and light, a sublimation and transformation so powerful, it's amazing modern psychology does not prescribe music therapy as a first treatment option. While not everyone has talent to play an instrument, most everyone can sing or dance or otherwise simply enjoy music. We all need more music, more creative energy in our lives. Because it makes us happy. As a societal whole, we are low on true happiness. I think John Lennon was trying to make that point to us all.
Tonight I helped a friend write a song, and had some good fun fiddling around. I really need to have more small group songwriting sessions. I'm not as confident when I'm in a big group of pickers because it is hard for me to find a nice melody to add when a dozen people are all noodling around. But I come out of my shell more when the group is small and there is space in the song. Maybe that says something about my introverted nature, or my inhibitions from my lack of knowledge or training, but at least I recognize my limitations and struggle to overcome them. Learning to play the fiddle well, a daunting task in itself, is easier than overcoming the mutitude of other Life problems I have. But you have to start somewhere, might as well be with something that makes you happy.
Fiddle Therapy: How I Learned to Forget About Taking the Bar and Learn to Love Myself
But I really don't want to forget about taking the Bar, because law is one of my primary passions. And I'm really good at what I do, I help people, and I have a great sense of self value from knowing that I have made a difference through my work. I just need the time and money to climb Mt. Everest again after falling from its peak. Anyone know how far it is to base camp?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
A Hero's Journey
Yesterday, a friend embarked on a transformative journey, the kind of journey very few undertake in life, especially in today's modern world of measuring life's accomplishments by the gold in one's pocket. The true gold in life are experiences, taking on challenges when one is called, and sacrificing material gains for the spiritual wealth that only comes through trials and tribulations along the way.
Adam embarked on a solo tour from Austin to North Carolina with his banjo strapped to his bicycle. Chronicles can be found here:
biketrek2011.blogspot.com
When he told me he was leaving on this wild adventure, I was flooded with emotion: excitement (wow, what fun!), envy (wish I could come along or do the same with my skates and fiddle), concern (such a long way to go solo), and spiritual elation (rare to know someone undertaking an epic journey of personal transformation, and thanks to the internets, being able to follow along and share encouragements).
I started thinking perhaps I am on similar journey, although not in the trek 10,000 miles across the South during a heat wave kinda way. In a way, I began my own journey back in June 2007, which led me to Austin. And arriving here and starting life over hasn't been the end of the trials and transformations. Even most recently, I feel that I've been in The Belly of The Beast, as it were, and not sure whether I'm in the process of being digested or indigested. Either way, I'll end up coming out a hole, covered in guck. That is, if I can find my way through the darkness.
The process of personal transformation, especially as an evolving musician, is profoundly spiritual. Throughout human history, humans have connected to the divine through music. Even in the Bible, we have all the Songs of David, the Song of Songs, and so on. Every major religion expresses prayer through music, the Jews sing their service, the Catholics (and most Christian sects) sing a lot of their services, and the Musilims sing the Call to Prayer.
Just taking up an instrument and making music come out of it requires a direct flow from the soul (divine) through the body (material). Each song we write is easentially an act of divine creation. As Shinichi Suzuki once said, "Beautiful tone, beautiful heart."
Which brings me to my personally transformative present moment, and my own journey inside my soul, to generate beautiful tone from my violin. As I mentioned in a previous post, I've tried to stop being so analytical about music, and learning to listen. when I play with my friends or jam along with my iPod, I'm less interested in recreating the song to it's every note, and concentrating more on making beautiful tones emerge and blend with the sounds around me. When I do so, I feel as if I am enveloped in a divine embrace, in a trance-like state, and my fears (of making a bad note) dissolve (at least until I hit a bad note, then I'm flooded with personal criticism). Overcoming my own personal criticisms is the hardest part of this journey. With the violin especially, being such a precise instrument where the slightest wiggle of the finger can bend a note the wrong way, I feel a need to hone and perfect, do it again until I get it right. It's called TRAINING. Without a mentor, I have to be both teacher and student, and the lesson book is written as I go along. Not the easiest route -- there are no maps for this road and the journey is long and solitary. Not unlike my friend's journey (except he has a map and amazing skills with his instrument).
So, as they say, today is the first day of the rest of your life. I pray I'm taking the right steps along the way, and not sure where I'll end up, but the journey is about the "getting there" not just the destination, which remains unknown.
Adam embarked on a solo tour from Austin to North Carolina with his banjo strapped to his bicycle. Chronicles can be found here:
biketrek2011.blogspot.com
When he told me he was leaving on this wild adventure, I was flooded with emotion: excitement (wow, what fun!), envy (wish I could come along or do the same with my skates and fiddle), concern (such a long way to go solo), and spiritual elation (rare to know someone undertaking an epic journey of personal transformation, and thanks to the internets, being able to follow along and share encouragements).
I started thinking perhaps I am on similar journey, although not in the trek 10,000 miles across the South during a heat wave kinda way. In a way, I began my own journey back in June 2007, which led me to Austin. And arriving here and starting life over hasn't been the end of the trials and transformations. Even most recently, I feel that I've been in The Belly of The Beast, as it were, and not sure whether I'm in the process of being digested or indigested. Either way, I'll end up coming out a hole, covered in guck. That is, if I can find my way through the darkness.
The process of personal transformation, especially as an evolving musician, is profoundly spiritual. Throughout human history, humans have connected to the divine through music. Even in the Bible, we have all the Songs of David, the Song of Songs, and so on. Every major religion expresses prayer through music, the Jews sing their service, the Catholics (and most Christian sects) sing a lot of their services, and the Musilims sing the Call to Prayer.
Just taking up an instrument and making music come out of it requires a direct flow from the soul (divine) through the body (material). Each song we write is easentially an act of divine creation. As Shinichi Suzuki once said, "Beautiful tone, beautiful heart."
Which brings me to my personally transformative present moment, and my own journey inside my soul, to generate beautiful tone from my violin. As I mentioned in a previous post, I've tried to stop being so analytical about music, and learning to listen. when I play with my friends or jam along with my iPod, I'm less interested in recreating the song to it's every note, and concentrating more on making beautiful tones emerge and blend with the sounds around me. When I do so, I feel as if I am enveloped in a divine embrace, in a trance-like state, and my fears (of making a bad note) dissolve (at least until I hit a bad note, then I'm flooded with personal criticism). Overcoming my own personal criticisms is the hardest part of this journey. With the violin especially, being such a precise instrument where the slightest wiggle of the finger can bend a note the wrong way, I feel a need to hone and perfect, do it again until I get it right. It's called TRAINING. Without a mentor, I have to be both teacher and student, and the lesson book is written as I go along. Not the easiest route -- there are no maps for this road and the journey is long and solitary. Not unlike my friend's journey (except he has a map and amazing skills with his instrument).
So, as they say, today is the first day of the rest of your life. I pray I'm taking the right steps along the way, and not sure where I'll end up, but the journey is about the "getting there" not just the destination, which remains unknown.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Typical Practice Day
What has more or less become my typical practice, I run through the following (in no particular order):
Guitar - I like playing "Goddamn Lonely Love" by Jason Isbell. It's probably my most polished song on guitar, and but for the interesting C minor chord (which sometimes doesn't hit just right), I can sing and play it well. I love playing the bridge--probably one of the finest lyrical masterpieces I know.
" Stop me if you've heard this one before
a man walks into a bar
and leaves before his ashes hit the floor.
Stop me if I ever get that far
the sun's a desperate star
that burns like every single one before."
lord, that's powerful.
Banjo - I'm working on a new song, it's in D and has an Em thrown in for good pleasure. No lyrics yet, but it feels like a love song. I guess I'm just waiting for that "love" inspiration, something I haven't felt since the divorce, so it might be a while before I finish that one. I also like to play an old song I wrote on the 405 freeway, and which took me ages to figure out was a banjo song. it just never sounded right on mandolin or guitar, but once I had a banjo, it all came together.
" Lovin' you has got me anxious baby
Lovin' you has got me up all night
My hair falls out and my teeth are achin'
or maybe it's cause my ponytail's too tight."
They say you can't write a sad song on the banjo. But I've certainly tried. One of my songs (which reminds people of Uncle Tupelo) is so sad I hardly sing it, but it is also inspirational to me.
" When I die I want to go to the mansion in the sky
and I pray to God it looks a lot like mine
with a lantern on the sill to guide the spirit home
till my true love comes to me in the by and by."
Mandolin - the mandolin has become more like a bridge between the guitar and the fiddle for me. I tend to play more rhythm on it, and not so much lead. when I do play lead, I like to practice Irish tunes. My favorite is O'Carolan's Concerto (which because I lost the music I now play with a made up ending). I try to practice restoring my singing voice with my version of In the Pines, but still struggle singing in D.
" The longest train I ever saw
came down the 49
the gold mule passed at 6 o' clock
and the quartz passed by at 9
I asked my Captain for the time of day
He said he'd thrown his watch away
In the river by the mine, said it stopped keeping time
and the sun tells him all he should know.
In the pines, in the pines
where the sun never shines
and we shiver when the cold wind blows.
My love, my love, what have I done?
You cause me to weep and moan.
You left without a word, and from you I've never heard
If you're alive or dead nobody knows.
In the pines, in the pines
where the sun never shines
and we shiver when the cold wind blows."
(c) 2006
Violin - I'm working on learning to play all the songs on Bob Dylan's album Desire. Fun and great ear training. I can play a song, then make a cup of tea in the middle of it, and come back and the song is still going. Bob's great for ear training because he repeats the same thing over and over and over again.
So that's the rundown as it typically goes. Now for that cup of tea.
Guitar - I like playing "Goddamn Lonely Love" by Jason Isbell. It's probably my most polished song on guitar, and but for the interesting C minor chord (which sometimes doesn't hit just right), I can sing and play it well. I love playing the bridge--probably one of the finest lyrical masterpieces I know.
" Stop me if you've heard this one before
a man walks into a bar
and leaves before his ashes hit the floor.
Stop me if I ever get that far
the sun's a desperate star
that burns like every single one before."
lord, that's powerful.
Banjo - I'm working on a new song, it's in D and has an Em thrown in for good pleasure. No lyrics yet, but it feels like a love song. I guess I'm just waiting for that "love" inspiration, something I haven't felt since the divorce, so it might be a while before I finish that one. I also like to play an old song I wrote on the 405 freeway, and which took me ages to figure out was a banjo song. it just never sounded right on mandolin or guitar, but once I had a banjo, it all came together.
" Lovin' you has got me anxious baby
Lovin' you has got me up all night
My hair falls out and my teeth are achin'
or maybe it's cause my ponytail's too tight."
They say you can't write a sad song on the banjo. But I've certainly tried. One of my songs (which reminds people of Uncle Tupelo) is so sad I hardly sing it, but it is also inspirational to me.
" When I die I want to go to the mansion in the sky
and I pray to God it looks a lot like mine
with a lantern on the sill to guide the spirit home
till my true love comes to me in the by and by."
Mandolin - the mandolin has become more like a bridge between the guitar and the fiddle for me. I tend to play more rhythm on it, and not so much lead. when I do play lead, I like to practice Irish tunes. My favorite is O'Carolan's Concerto (which because I lost the music I now play with a made up ending). I try to practice restoring my singing voice with my version of In the Pines, but still struggle singing in D.
" The longest train I ever saw
came down the 49
the gold mule passed at 6 o' clock
and the quartz passed by at 9
I asked my Captain for the time of day
He said he'd thrown his watch away
In the river by the mine, said it stopped keeping time
and the sun tells him all he should know.
In the pines, in the pines
where the sun never shines
and we shiver when the cold wind blows.
My love, my love, what have I done?
You cause me to weep and moan.
You left without a word, and from you I've never heard
If you're alive or dead nobody knows.
In the pines, in the pines
where the sun never shines
and we shiver when the cold wind blows."
(c) 2006
Violin - I'm working on learning to play all the songs on Bob Dylan's album Desire. Fun and great ear training. I can play a song, then make a cup of tea in the middle of it, and come back and the song is still going. Bob's great for ear training because he repeats the same thing over and over and over again.
So that's the rundown as it typically goes. Now for that cup of tea.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Babbette, top view
Here she is from the top. The purfling looks to be single, not double, so it is not likely she is a French Vuillaume copy, but probably an American.
Babbette, her scroll back
Also quite a bit of red varnish still on the bottom of the back of the scroll.
Babbette, her scroll front
You can still see quite a bit of the original red varnish on the front side of the scroll.
Babbette, her scroll
You can see where the machine head tuning pegs were once screwed into the scroll (by a screwy fiddler in the 50's) before I restored her.
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