Cajons and Jam Session

  Today was a music-filled day. To start the morning off, I had a cajon lesson with Steve Bowman from the Counting Crows, who was a very talented, friendly, and down to earth fellow. He really sang the praises of his instrument and despite the fact that the cajon (or even drums) isn't something I've ever aspired to learn, by the time we got started I was feeling pumped up to get my hands on one. And as seems to always be the case with a new instrument, once I sat down and learned to play a little bit of music on it, the hooks were in me and I wanted to learn more. I don't anticipate cajon is something I'll pursue as intensely as piano or guitar, but I do think I'll attend a few more sessions. Swollen, throbbing hands aside, I found playing to be a very satisfying experience and this would be a good way for me to finely hone my rhythm.

  Here's a low quality video of part of our session, filmed on Steve's camera potato. My favorite part is toward the end where it sounds like a horse galloped into the studio.

  After that, I hung around the studio for a bit talking to a few talented ladies who up until recently toured with Mustang Sally, and then I had my first ever piano-violin jam session with one of them. I don't know if it was nerves or the giant window through which the sun beat down upon me, but I was sweating a bit when I settled in to play with complete strangers. Thankfully I soon forgot my trepidation as my mind was forced to focus on keeping up with the songs. I loved the sound coming out of the room with our combination of instruments, even with all of my mistakes. We played a few old-timey songs, ending on a waltz that is absolutely beautiful on strings...and all the better accompanied by piano, in my opinon. As seen below:

  I need more days filled like this. Learning new things and collaborating on creative endeavors tickles me in all the right places.

Seaboard Grand

  I don't often see new instruments created these days. I was shown this a bit earlier; really interesting tech that resulted in an equally interesting device. I love the sounds coming from this thing. It seems like something you'd see at a Sigur Rós show.

New Year, New Motivations

  My progress with last year's New Year's Resolutions was such a success that I'm hoping to continue that trend on into this new year, but to take it even further. I want to push harder on with the music and continue to try new things. And I still need to work on being more social and a bit less of a recluse...that's one aspect of my resolutions I didn't quite conquer to the extent I wanted.

  My optimism for the new year is exceptionally high. I continue to progress and fall more and more in love with the piano, I've knocked a bit of rust off the ole guitar skills, I have a Cajon lesson coming up soon (with the original Counting Crows drummer, which is pretty cool), the vocal instructor I'm going to see is back Feb 17th so if I keep my courage up, I'll be meeting up with her to determine if I can work on this voice of mine so I can sing along with my guitar playing without sounding like a tortured rooster. I've another trip in mind for this year, though my destination isn't decided yet. As much as I want to go back to France, I need to go somewhere I've never been before. And tomorrow I have a 90 minute session in one of those sensory deprivation chambers, which sounds like a very interesting experience. Maybe that will get my creative juices flowing.

  This is going to be a fantastic year, I can feel it. I'm not even going to let the flu that knocked me out for 3 weeks make me believe otherwise.

Slow and Steady

  I sat down to play some new songs this evening and was pleasantly surprised to be able to work my way through them without a lot of long stretches of staring that alternated between the keyboard and the sheet music. Usually I feel like I'm trying to crack the Rosetta Stone when I look at a new piece of music and it takes such a ridiculous amount of time for me to get through a very short amount of music.

"Eleanor Rigby" by the Beatles.

  I'm used to fighting tooth and nail to make progress on every single beat. First I would work my way through the notes, then I'd notice the song had dynamics, then I'd notice some accidentals that I had missed, then oops, this alternates between mezzo forte and pianissimo several times, and at last notice I'd completely overlooked the repeats. It was nice to flow through a song for once and feel somewhat competent at the whole process, being able to take in a majority of the nuances the first try and actually play them where it almost sounded like the actual song on the first go-round. It made me think of those 3d puzzles you'd stare at as a kid, when you'd say, "I think I might possibly maybe see the spaceship," before getting to that point where you could see it instantly, every time, in its entirety.

Hint: not a spaceship.

 Progress isn't something you tend to notice in the present when learning something new. Usually it's only after looking back at where you've come from that you notice the improvements, which I suppose is pretty much what I did today, but it felt more "in the moment", if you will, than I've experienced before.  It made me think that everything was really coming together.

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave.

You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave. 

Post-Jitters

  The aforementioned performance has come and gone and I feel it went smashingly. It was a pleasure to meet some of the other pianists that I don't see due to conflicting schedules and to mingle with them a bit. They all seemed like great people, and a few of them can bake their bums off. It was especially gratifying to see my class-mate Suneethi perform and rock her song as well as she did. I was proud to see her do so well. Not that I ever doubted she would.
  As for myself, I had some extreme butterflies going on all day that increased gradually throughout the day and reached critical levels when I arrived at the studio. Yet when I went up there, took a bow and made overly-dramatic coat-flap flourish, I almost forgot about everyone and zoned out. I don't even remember playing through the piece exactly, but I do recall feeling like it was my best run-through of that song to date. I missed one note but I don't think it was noticeable if you didn't know the song. But all of the nuances that really give the song it's variety - the constant shifting crescendo and decrescendo especially - I feel like I nailed just right for probably the first time. I quite nearly felt like I knew what I was doing.

The pose I wanted to make when I finished.

  Looking back over my life, I can think of several incidents where I was required to perform in front of people, or speak to a large group, and I was always sweating bullets until it was time but when the moment of truth came I always seemed to do quite well. There's nothing about my personality that would make you think I'd ever be skilled at either of those. I'm usually quiet, not a very good mingler, and rather shy. But I've been fortunate enough to really pull it together for events like this. I think the adrenaline rush really works in my favor. Perhaps I even have a natural talent for public speaking or performance, but just haven't been in that many situations that require it and thus never realized that fact. I'm going to go with that theory for now and ride it out until I'm proven otherwise. If I am ever proven wrong, I just hope it's not publicly.

  All in all, I think today was a great success not only for myself, but for everyone who performed, and especially my instructor who is doing such an amazing job sharing her passion for music and instilling it in others.

Jitters

  Saturday I get to play in front of a bunch of strangers. Uh oh. I didn't really anticipate checking off the "play in front of people" goal from the list so early, nor in this way, but it's probably good practice. The whole "wait until I'm amazing and blow everyone's mind" level I was going to try and achieve first is likely a looooong way off.
  It's a short piece I'm doing, no more than a minute long, and I can play it in my sleep. That's not to say I've mastered it, but I've practiced extensively and know all of it's subtleties and texture by heart. Despite that, I'm still anticipating disaster. Every so often when I'm playing it in front of someone, I start thinking about what I'm doing instead of just doing, and that's when things go south. I do best when I can sort of unfocus my mind and take it all in as a whole, with all the nuances and pieces working quietly and smoothly in the background, out of sight and out of mind, like when you're drawing still-life and you unfocus your vision to zone in on the primitive shapes that make up your subject. My brain isn't being overwhelmed by counting beats and remembering legatos and that I need to alternate between mezzo piano and mezzo forte, etc. My body just knows what to do, and does it.

  Here's to hoping I don't have - as my friend Ashby calls them - a "Classic Nick" moment where I'm involved in a ridiculously extensive and convoluted event that causes me extreme levels of embarrassment. Thankfully I feel like I've always been pretty good at keeping a song going even when I screw up, thanks to my first guitar teacher drilling the importance of that skill into my head so many years ago. It's possible I'm not actually good at it and just think I am, but what I don't know won't kill me.

Awww

  Not at all music related, aside from this adorable young lady was keeping me distracted during practice this evening. And I'm pretty okay with that. She's being fostered and I was very close to taking her home with me, but I don't know if my dog, Buckley, is ready for a kitten.

She kept ALMOST jumping onto the keys. I was waiting for it so I could see her run across them and play notes as she did so.

That lady-like hand is not mine. Just want to clear that up.