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.
Babbette, her backside
You can see the red finish has been completely rubbed out, but I like the glow of the natural wood nonetheless.
Babbette
This is my violin. She was my mother's, a gift from my father, which was kept in a closet for 40 years until I begged to resurrect her. She is a Vuillaume copy, pre-WW1, maybe early turn of the century...I doubt older. She had been drastically modified some time in the 50's, her red finish rubbed out, and had machine head tuning pegs instead of the traditional pegs. I fixed that, among a gazillion other things and she is just delightful.
It's About Time, part 2
Blogging by iPhone is awkward, and perhaps I need an app for this, but until then...
Round about July 2007, I decided to move to Austin, Texas as an alternative to being 6 feet under, which I would have been the way things were going. A new start, in a town filled with amazing music and a community which welcomed me with open arms asking, "What took you so long?" I had no plan, no job, no house, and only one friend from home. But on my journey here, when I first set foot on Texas soil, I asked the Universe, "Will Texas be good to me?" and I was answered with the most cliche of signs: a rainbow stretching from Abilene to Austin. I just knew this had to be right.
When I arrived, I met some really inspiring musicians, the most influential of which would have to be Warren Hood. This 24 year old kid played the violin with such mastery and soul, it made me ache in the deepest parts of my soul. If I can credit my inspiration for returning to violin to anyone, it is most assuredly Warren.
I had been writing silly songs on the guitar, mandolin, and banjo, and playing them at open mic at Ego's for a few months when I first arrived. I had no idea what I was doing with songwriting, but as Bono put it, all you need are 3 chords and the truth. So I wrote mostly what one can call "therapy songs". Most of it crap about my ex husband, ex boyfriends, dead friends, you get the picture. I did discover I have a talent for rewriting classic tunes with clever lyrics, and am still proud of my version of In The Pines. My version of Jingle Bells is my most "Weird Al" of them all (a holiday classic about sex, drugs, and killing deer).
Not long after the demise of Ego's, I picked up the violin. And this has been my #1 instrument, though I wish I had more time to devote to practice. It ain't so easy to make up for 30 lost years, especially on an instrument as unforgiving as the violin. It's not unlike trying to get back into world class figure skating shape after an extended hiatus. Virtual impossibility, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I took lessons for about a year to relearn my Suzuki method training, but had to stop because 1) I can't afford lessons, and 2) I suffered a stroke (or MS attack, or something), and needed to regain my physical health (and stop my right side from going paralyzed).
So I've struggled with some health issues over the last several years, and just now beginning to feel like I'm beating whatever it is that the Universe has been sending to kick my ass. Take that Universe, I'm kicking back.
So nowadays I have a home in which I am finally comfortable enough to practice the violin (let's hope I can keep it, because life has a way of shitting on my parade). I really love jamming to Bob Dylan, and I've been jamming with some friends every week at the Train Stage. My right hand has regained most of it's feeling and mobility (the violin seems to help) and my left hand pretty much knows what to do as long as I know what notes I'm supposed to be playing. I've almost got my vibrato back, and my "feel" is becoming more natural. Mostly I just need confidence and encouragement. I'm trying to stop being overly analytical about what notes to play in what key, and learning to LISTEN. Which is why I've titled this blog Playing By Ear.
So my not so brief background aside, I will hopefully continue on this blog to track my progress, post lyrics and poetry, and other creative endeavors along the way.
Round about July 2007, I decided to move to Austin, Texas as an alternative to being 6 feet under, which I would have been the way things were going. A new start, in a town filled with amazing music and a community which welcomed me with open arms asking, "What took you so long?" I had no plan, no job, no house, and only one friend from home. But on my journey here, when I first set foot on Texas soil, I asked the Universe, "Will Texas be good to me?" and I was answered with the most cliche of signs: a rainbow stretching from Abilene to Austin. I just knew this had to be right.
When I arrived, I met some really inspiring musicians, the most influential of which would have to be Warren Hood. This 24 year old kid played the violin with such mastery and soul, it made me ache in the deepest parts of my soul. If I can credit my inspiration for returning to violin to anyone, it is most assuredly Warren.
I had been writing silly songs on the guitar, mandolin, and banjo, and playing them at open mic at Ego's for a few months when I first arrived. I had no idea what I was doing with songwriting, but as Bono put it, all you need are 3 chords and the truth. So I wrote mostly what one can call "therapy songs". Most of it crap about my ex husband, ex boyfriends, dead friends, you get the picture. I did discover I have a talent for rewriting classic tunes with clever lyrics, and am still proud of my version of In The Pines. My version of Jingle Bells is my most "Weird Al" of them all (a holiday classic about sex, drugs, and killing deer).
Not long after the demise of Ego's, I picked up the violin. And this has been my #1 instrument, though I wish I had more time to devote to practice. It ain't so easy to make up for 30 lost years, especially on an instrument as unforgiving as the violin. It's not unlike trying to get back into world class figure skating shape after an extended hiatus. Virtual impossibility, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I took lessons for about a year to relearn my Suzuki method training, but had to stop because 1) I can't afford lessons, and 2) I suffered a stroke (or MS attack, or something), and needed to regain my physical health (and stop my right side from going paralyzed).
So I've struggled with some health issues over the last several years, and just now beginning to feel like I'm beating whatever it is that the Universe has been sending to kick my ass. Take that Universe, I'm kicking back.
So nowadays I have a home in which I am finally comfortable enough to practice the violin (let's hope I can keep it, because life has a way of shitting on my parade). I really love jamming to Bob Dylan, and I've been jamming with some friends every week at the Train Stage. My right hand has regained most of it's feeling and mobility (the violin seems to help) and my left hand pretty much knows what to do as long as I know what notes I'm supposed to be playing. I've almost got my vibrato back, and my "feel" is becoming more natural. Mostly I just need confidence and encouragement. I'm trying to stop being overly analytical about what notes to play in what key, and learning to LISTEN. Which is why I've titled this blog Playing By Ear.
So my not so brief background aside, I will hopefully continue on this blog to track my progress, post lyrics and poetry, and other creative endeavors along the way.
It's About Time
It's been so long since I've blogged, and life has taken sole rough turns, but I'm back and beginning a new chapter. This blog is mostly about my musical journey, which began when I started playing music again in 2006. Yes, that was 5 years ago, and a lot has happened since then, but the best part is taking up playing the violin again. Though I had distracted myself in my 20's with playing guitar, I was never really all that great at it, never really "got" the B string thing, and playing all those bar chords gave me immense wrist pain. So I hung it up when I went back to school. After graduating with my law degree and failing at my Mrs. degree (i.e. getting divorced) I reaches for the only part of my soul which had not been destroyed in the process...my love of playing music.
I first took up playing bass. I was inspired by Steve (the sax player for Los Lobos) who let me play his Baby Rickenbacher bass, and I was hooked. I bought a bass and started fooling around. I had planned on returning to my home town to take lessons from my old friend Erik Klevin; however, he met with his untimely demise in August 2006, and is now one of my musical angels (when he has the time, he is an awfully busy angel). While I was attending the funeral, I stopped into Skip's Music, and to make a very long story short, ended up coming out of there with my mandolin.
I returned back to Los Angeles, and started learning to play. I knew only a G and a C chord, and knew I needed a D to make a song. So one night at the Lava Lounge when Ryan Bingham was playing, I asked Corby Schaub how to make a D. And there I began feeling like I could write and play some songs...at least in G.
A month later, I was out at Pappy & Harriet's in Joshua Tree for the Camper Van Beethoven/Cracker campout, and ended up meeting Johnny Hickman. It's actually a funny story. I was walking back to my tent after the show, and saw an old man on a rocking chair tuning his guitar, and a younger man with his back to me tuning a mandolin. In my usual naive but curious fashion, I approached them and asked, "Hey, are y'all going to jam? Do you mind if I join you even though I've only had my mandolin for a month?" Johnny turned around and said, "absolutely, bring it on over" (or something to that effect). So I did, and then realized into the night I was jamming with some of the most amazing musicians I've had the pleasure to know. That experience has fueled my passion for music, and the friendships I formed that weekend have kept me going through the darkest of times.
I first took up playing bass. I was inspired by Steve (the sax player for Los Lobos) who let me play his Baby Rickenbacher bass, and I was hooked. I bought a bass and started fooling around. I had planned on returning to my home town to take lessons from my old friend Erik Klevin; however, he met with his untimely demise in August 2006, and is now one of my musical angels (when he has the time, he is an awfully busy angel). While I was attending the funeral, I stopped into Skip's Music, and to make a very long story short, ended up coming out of there with my mandolin.
I returned back to Los Angeles, and started learning to play. I knew only a G and a C chord, and knew I needed a D to make a song. So one night at the Lava Lounge when Ryan Bingham was playing, I asked Corby Schaub how to make a D. And there I began feeling like I could write and play some songs...at least in G.
A month later, I was out at Pappy & Harriet's in Joshua Tree for the Camper Van Beethoven/Cracker campout, and ended up meeting Johnny Hickman. It's actually a funny story. I was walking back to my tent after the show, and saw an old man on a rocking chair tuning his guitar, and a younger man with his back to me tuning a mandolin. In my usual naive but curious fashion, I approached them and asked, "Hey, are y'all going to jam? Do you mind if I join you even though I've only had my mandolin for a month?" Johnny turned around and said, "absolutely, bring it on over" (or something to that effect). So I did, and then realized into the night I was jamming with some of the most amazing musicians I've had the pleasure to know. That experience has fueled my passion for music, and the friendships I formed that weekend have kept me going through the darkest of times.
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