I find little that’s more enjoyable to fill an evening on my own with than putting on my pajamas, sitting with my cat, sipping a glass of red wine and watching the Andy Williams Show reruns on iPlayer.
Words are sticking in my fingers this evening. And a lump forms out of the weight of everything that I am trying to carry on my own, rising from the middle of my chest to my throat. . . and stops there. Stifling.
These are the images that I am told can make great poetry, great photographs, great music. But I am not enough of an artist to bring forth any riches there.
So I sit and stare at the blank page, writing wordless poetry. Only feeling, not articulating, the verse pouring out of a locked up chamber, too full to be still, yet silent, by consequence and necessity.
“awoke today and found the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and all the trees are shivering in a naked row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go
I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in
Now the warriors of winter they gave a cold triumphant shout
And all that stays is dying, all that lives is getting out
See the geese in chevron flight flapping and a-racing on before the snow
They’ve got the urge for going, and they’ve got the wings so they can go
They get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in
I’ll ply the fire with kindling now, I’ll pull the blankets up to my chin
I’ll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I’d like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so
But she’s got the urge for going and I guess she’ll have to go
She gets the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown
And all her empire’s falling down”
I’ve been wanting a chromatic tuner. You know one of those little electronic things where you play a note and it tells you if you’re sharp or flat so that you can tune your instrument. Problem is, to buy one of these things you have to go into a music store.
Now what’s wrong with a music store you might wonder. Isn’t it just a place that one buys things musical? Isn’t it it a place where one buys tuners and sheet music and metronomes? Isn’t it a haven for someone like me?
No! It is a Mecca of cultural sub-sets where buzzers and alarms start to sound when I come near it. It is a place where I don’t speak the language of the initiated or wear the uniform. When it comes down to it, it’s just a place where I-don’t-fit. before reading on you could refer to the first 1 minute of the following clip to clear up any questions on the matter:
I knew I was in trouble, first when I walked into a place that immediately reminded me of the the above clip, but with no satire involved, and then when I was looking at the tuners presented to me and the assistant asked me “So what is it you want to tune?”
I almost squeaked my reply like the mouse that I felt that I was:
“hamm-ered dul-ci-mer ?” and the look on her face confirmed that I would need to get out of there fairly quickly. “Um, I think I may just tune to my piano a bit longer, thanks.”
I had a similar feeling last week when my dentist asked me what kind of music I was listening to on my iPod and the only response I could honestly give him was “umm, indie/folk that has a bit of electronica and traditional eastern European folk influences thrown in?”
The look on his face was a winner too.
Most of the time, I’m ok with being different. Most of the time I’m ok standing out. But sometimes it seems like it might be nice to fit occasionally. Boring, but perhaps nice.
Ok, I realise that I was begging the Nirvana question, and I’m awfully pleased that you didn’t let me down. I’ll fess up, I was just waiting for someone to make that comment.
However, I had to rush the ending of that post because I got a phone call while finishing up the post and had to leave straight away. So, in the end, I never did really explain why I titled the post Nirvana.
I mentioned the whole “freedom from suffering, craving, anger and other afflicted states” thing, briefly, but didn’t get a chance to explain what it had to do with playing the hammered dulcimer, for me.
It’s the same thing I got from playing Bach (either on flute or piano). In Bach (or any baroque music for that matter, but particularly Bach) and in much of the note patterning on the hammered dulcimer, you get patterns that repeat themselves over and over again in different sequences and starting on different notes and changing between major and minor keys, but still based on the same pattern. This is one reason why people can play some of these sequences so quickly. If you master the first pattern and repeat it, then you just need to get yourself “ticking over” so to speak, and the momentum carries itself.
I find this kind of playing wonderfully meditative. It takes up all of my head space and I don’t have any room left to be worried or anxious or angry or afflicted.
The problem is, that it’s always a chicken and egg debate. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last decade or so of my life in some kind of ‘afflicted state’ or another, which didn’t leave any room for the music. When at the same time, if I had been able to concentrate on the music, I might have found a way out of my ‘afflicted states’.
But it’s never that simple, is it? The transition of moving oneself from afflicted state to being lost in the music is a difficult leap to make, which I believe is why I stopped being able to make it.
However, I think if I can just find that window of head space that allows me to jump into the music, then all of those meditative, repetitive patterns can take over and do their job. At least, I’m finding a way to crawl through that little window opening in the big wall of afflicted states at the moment. And hopefully, having done so to begin with, will keep me there for longer.
Does that make any sense?
Many of my friends have spoken whistfully over the years about that ‘great time in their youth’ when they had the time and energy to sit and practice _______ [fill in the blank with appropriate instrument] for hours on end.
I never relished that time.
I always tried to make myself practice, I did. But I was young and, like most young people, more concerned about my social development than my musical one. I wanted it, I really did, I dreamed about it, planned for it, and chased after it. . . but the only thing that was going to get it for me, was the one thing I wasn’t doing and no one was making me do: Practice!
I began to learn piano when I was 8, flute when I was 10 (both of which I completely botched up the opportunity to perfect through such practice times) and started studying serious classical vocal music when I was 13. I took every oportunity to audition for whatever stage show/play/musical/choral/competition that I could get myself into, and had some fantastic experiences. I spent long hours rehearsing with my fellow performers. I began a degree at my first University in Vocal Music Education (which I also botched up mainly through lack of practice and an aversion to Theory homework) when I was 18/19, at which point I emigrated and changed to a university who had no musical or vocal programme. Then at 20, I got MS and my priorities changed. Then even more so when I got married at 21.
And there went a lifetime of music.
I occasionally tried to find a window to open to crawl through back into it all (voice/flute/piano teachers, amateur stage groups, choirs, church music) but nothing seemed to ever legitamise the former levels to which it all used to mean to me.
Then, for barely any reason at all, I bought a hammered dulcimer. An instrument I had learned about in my music classes at school and always liked the look/sound/thought of, but wasn’t an instrument anybody would really consider learning how to play, would they? Students chose pianos, trumpets, and flutes where I went to school. In my school, violin and stringed instruments weren’t even an option! So once a violin becomes an exotic instrument, you don’t seriously consider a hammered dulcimer!
So after all of these years I found myself at a bit of a loose end. Unemployed due mainly to medical reasons for five years, increasingly ill due mainly to stress for the last three, and determined to rebuild something through some kind of convelescence. Enter the hammered dulcimer.
Why on earth would anybody chose the hammered dulcimer? Why not?
So now that my daughter is being looked after most days by a playgroup and the school system (at the moment anyway… we’ll see) I have found it wonderful, as my more accomplished musical friends have already attested, to throw myself into several hours of practice a day.
The Wikipedia article on Nirvana describes it as “the state of being free from suffering” or “the perfect peace of the state of mind that is free from craving, anger and other afflictive states.”
Now, I’m really not a Buddhist, and I wouldn’t make a terribly good one at all, but I’m starting to wonder whether that’s what my friends were talking about.
the one I’m working on at the moment:
Had to share this. Dee shared this earlier and I just love it! Have been very interested in the mind recently and how it works in relation to all sorts of things anyway, and the fact that this happened so easily and naturally with no rehersal with, I assume, an audience full of people who generally didn’t know each other shows me that there is some comment thread among us all, really.
Of course, yes, you can make all kinds of excuses about cultural expectations and how those present were probably all of a similar mindset but . . . just watch it and don’t look for the holes. ok?
(I had a choir master do this kind of thing once, and it’s surprising how easy it is to follow.)
I received something in the post yesterday, I assume from either the health visitor or the docotr’s office that said “Congratulations, your child is 3! Now that your child is 3, she should be able to:…” and then listed all manner of developmental things like kicking a ball and standing on one foot etc, many of which the Flower Child can do.
However, I don’t know of any parents who actually appriciate these kind of mailings, as it always points out those things that are ‘different’ to the ‘norm’ in your child, and makes you as a parent feel that perhaps you have not encouraged all aspects of your child’s development well enough. ah, underachievement in the child, failure as a parent! (of course in all rationality, we know this isn’t so, but…)
As I tried to remember if I had ever seen Flower walk on her tiptoes, and decided that she may have some trouble achieving this, along with a few other milestones on the list, I said to myself and to the piece of paper:
“Yes, but my 3 year old can correctly aurally identify and name the difference between flute, guitar, trumpet, drums, violin and piano when heard in a given piece of classical music. Bet yours can’t. HA, so there!!”
Now we just have to work on Sonata composition, and we could have a budding Mozart.
Have been determined to discover some new music lately. Not just newly released, but new to me.
About a year ago, husband and I stumbled into some music, so to speak. We have a LOT now, not that we were really hurting for music before, but this is a LOT of stuff and a LOT of it is good and a lot of it is classic. (that’s not to say that there isn’t bad stuff too) It has made me aware of how much that I’ve only exchanged passing glances with and really needed to explore a bit deeper. So at the end of May, I had a major photography deadline and wanted to shut myself away in my room with no one and nothing else but a bunch of musicians, a laptop, a printer and a slew of jpegs.
So I’ve been telling myself that I’d write out some of my discoveries. These are not all the albums that I tried out and not the best or fullest of descriptions (I’ve never been good at writing reviews), but just thought I’d get it down, at least in part, before I forget.
I’ve just decided that I could keep writing and writing about this tonight, but really don’t have time, so I could always come back to it later. But here is some of my musical discovery of late, at least in part, and all of it is influenced by the fact that I was looking for something I could work to. So my assessments might be very different, when listening at rest.
Albums discovered that I could listen to as a whole over and over again. (Couldn’t work to these, they were too good. kept listening to the lyrics):
1972 – Neil Young – Harvest
1977 – Peter Gabriel –self titled (Car-album cover)
(What can I say about these two albums?! I think my loss for words says enough.)
1999 – Divine Comedy – A Secret History (an album where everybody probably knows a good proportion of it, but hasn’t listened to the whole thing. So I did listen to the whole thing. And really enjoyed it. Lyrically clever, always liked his voice and singing style, all around pretty fun.)
2007 – Beirut – The Flying Club Cup (This is my ultimate musical discovery of the year! Suggested listening by a friend, I read the sleeve notes first and it immediately intrigued me and it reminded me of Rilke’s prose [a favourite], though Rilke wasn’t any actual influence on the album. The album was actually inspired by an old photograph of hot air ballooners found in France. The photos in the album are lovely. The music was intriguing, different, powerful, emotional, descriptive and just plain good. Lyrically the songs made for good poetry with or without music and Zach Condon’s voice could melt marble! The sound of Eastern European folk brass along with French accordion was actually beautiful. The lyrical imagery was as well.)
1984 – The Smiths – Hatful of Hollow (but anything Smiths will do. These, actually, were pretty good work albums too, really. They’re just good albums.)
Album discovered that I could listen to as a whole, but once was enough for one day:
1999 – Penguin Café Orchestra – When In Rome (enjoyable. I really liked this, like the first time I heard it, but didn’t want to stick it on ‘repeat’.)
Tried, but I’ll pass:
Camper Van Beethovin (might try again, might not)
California Guitar Trio (kind of got bored)
1976 – Phillip Glass – Einstein on the Beach
1982 – Phillip Glass – Koyaanisqatsi
(These two upset my cat. I wasn’t far behind.)
Albums I discovered that were good, but I couldn’t listen to for more than a few tracks at a time:
1975 – Patti Smith – Horses (great album, great performer/artist, but started to twitch with nervous energy after about 4 tracks. I think perhaps this is one to listen more to the individual tracks than as a whole. for one’s own sanity’s sake.)
1973 – Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon (again, great album, and there are individual songs I’ve always liked, but as a whole, and with an impending deadline looming, I opted for something a little less unstable, more calming and encouraging. It was kind of like when my roommate and I lay on the floor in a darkened room in university and listened to the Beatles’ Number 9 (on Revolution 9) and totally tripped out, stone cold sober. Anyway, I will give Dark Side of the Moon another listen as a whole album, but not when I have anything pressing or nerve wracking, I think.)
1983 – Police – Synchronicity (Actually, I’ve always really liked this album, but again was getting a bit anxious. Some tracks better than others.)
Album I just didn’t like:
1997 – Radiohead – Ok Computer (don’t know whether I think it’s good or not (I can admit to something being ‘good’ even if I don’t like it), I couldn’t get past the first track!)
I found these Good albums to work to:
2006 – Cat Power – The Greatest (I think I actually enjoyed her, but would need a few more listens before assessing whether or not she’s actually good.)
2008 – Ting Tings – We Started Nothing (ok, this was a bit of a surprise to me. I didn’t expect to be ok with or cope with it, but the sheer energy was conducive to a deadline, which is why I think I went for it in the end. I don’t think I necessarily think it’s good, or that I would go out of my way to listen to it again, but it was ok and it would be good for house cleaning to. House cleaning needs something with energy.)
1959 – Ray Charles – The Genius of Ray Charles (was surprised that it was all instrumental And just simply, he was a genius.)
1988 – The Clash – The Story of the Clash (2 CDs) (couldn’t listen to it everyday, but good stuff.)
Talking Heads – all of it (I love Talking Heads, have for a long time. discovered them late on, really, in ‘94. I don’t know why, there’s just something cathartic about David Byrne’s style that I can relate to. . . no, don’t think too hard about that!)
Things I used to listen to a lot, but on revisiting, didn’t really want to revisit. Not bad stuff, just for then, not for now. At least, for now, now.
Waterboys –made me sad and nostalgic
Smashing Pumpkins – could take it or leave it this time
Indigo Girls – who wants to be 17 again?
Tori Amos – who wants to appropriate all that angst? (also, see above comment)
Fiona Apple – didn’t realise she was so angst ridden too.
Seal – this one actually fared best of this section for listenability. He’s pretty good. Actaully, yeah, I still liked this one.
Would, of course, as always, be interested to hear what you think.