The Autism Post II

A couple of days ago I made the decision to schedule an appointment to see a therapist. If ever I was to see a therapist, now seems to be the least likely time. More appropriate would have been when I was 16, trying to figure out how to feel comfortable when surrounded by large groups of people. Or when 21, feeling isolated and lonely during my first year at the university. It wasn't until I was 23 that I began to feel a sense that everything was fine, that all I really had to do was just Be.

I cured myself, but of what I did not know. The years of silent struggle were known only to me, and this was made clear when one of my college friends once derisively said, “what have you ever had to struggle with?” I laughed and cried to myself when he uttered those ignorant words. I forgave him his ignorance, for how could he know what I had passed through – it all happened inside my mind, and I never spoke of it to anyone.

Today, at 44 years, my mind has mellowed and matured. Being recently confronted with a dissolving marriage caused only a ripple upon its alert, tranquil surface. My cure, found 21 years ago, remains solid and secure. But the root cause of my earlier troubles is still intact, intertwined with my life, and something which cannot be removed.

One day last year I sat down to read my favorite running blog, and began reading “The Autism Post”. The only thing I knew about autism, was, well, after finishing The Autism Post, I realized I knew nothing of it. But that day I learned that I very well could be afflicted with one of its variations. Many of the symptoms described in the post applied to me. What startled me most was discovering that I could possess such a condition since birth and not find out about it until I was 43 years old. It reminded me of the stories I had read of people on their deathbeds, realizing they had never done what they really wanted to do, and if only they had a chance to go back in time they would tell the people in the world to go fuck themselves, because now they were going to do what they wanted to do! - Alas, it is too late, and they take their last defeated breath in silent anguish.

While I felt a sense of relief at finding out about my possible condition, I was disappointed that knowledge of it had come so late. I had already worked through the most troubling symptoms, and maybe it was a good thing I had to do it on my own, but if I had known earlier it could have perhaps prevented some unnecessary grief.

The recent event which tipped the balance inside my mind was a retirement party at my place of employment. The familiar dread of having to attend a social function for 4 hours inside a small, brightly lit room packed with people began to creep its way into my consciousness, and as the day drew near I searched for excuses for nonattendance. With the event a few days away it occurred to me that the feelings which I felt about it were not logical of cause and effect - why would I choose to skip a work event, knowing that not attending would make me look bad and thus harm my reputation with people I see everyday? I was happy that I was cognizant of this fact, and is the only reason I attend the annual Christmas party and autumn retreat. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I would prefer to experience physical torments, e.g., spending 4 hours in a dental chair with a continuous intrusion of drills and needles, than to sit in a room filled with people whom I know, but do not understand. I questioned how something which appears so innocent could give me the impression that I was being asked to commit a great crime, such as murder or rape - attending was such an affront to my senses that it felt like a breach of personal ethics.

The odd thing is that no anxiety or fear accompanies this sense of dread. Indeed, one of the things which I discovered in my early 20's is that anxiety is useless, and fear one of the stupidest things a person can abuse themselves with. So if anxiety and fear of people is not the cause of my dread, what is?

Not being able to answer the above question, I decided it was the correct time to seek out a therapist who knows something of mind disorders, and to discover if I am afflicted with a type of autism. Never having been to a therapist I do not know what to expect, but I keep thinking back to my negative experiences with guitar teachers – one did not listen, the other listened with too much ego. I know that who I will be speaking with is a fallible person who possesses no absolute truth, but maybe hearing a dose of relative knowledge could help put into perspective what I have had to experience throughout my life. After 44 years of botched attempts at fitting in when forced to by external circumstance, I shout emphatically - uncle!

Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye II

7 Notes +

Yesterday while practicing guitar I was doing one of the Principles exercises and my fingers and hand tension loosened considerably at the half way point (did the exercise for about an hour), allowing for faster and more accurate movement. While my fingers seemed relaxed when I started, it was shocking to feel the switch. I had a very slight impression of what a good violinist or master guitarist feels like when playing.

I was reminded of the year of meditation study in my early 20's, when one day after months of practice something switched in my brain - the normal state, which I thought to be relaxed and aware, moved into an altogether different realm, making me feel foolish and ignorant. One of the first thoughts which arrived was "do most people live like this, with everyone forgetting to tell me how to get there"? After reflection, I realized the answer was no, because most people who came into contact with me were angry, confused, and violent.....

(As I write this in the corridor of the Square, an older couple just walked by discussing the following - "I wonder how many people actually still use film anymore", "yeah, not many", "you know, develop their own film, use a darkroom" "professionals maybe". I looked up wondering why in the world they would be discussing something as arcane as film photography, when my mind made the connection - they probably had just come from the b/w photography exhibit at the coop, where some ((myself included)) had submitted silver prints developed in a darkroom. I had completely forgotten about the exhibit, and now I am inspired to maybe go and see it).

......and so I am wondering how many more levels are possible with finger/hand relaxation - maybe it depends upon the amount of time I practice and how much luck I possess. I have been watching some of the videos posted of students at the Principles website and a few of them practice more than I do yet seem tight and tentative. I guess like with anything, a bit of genetics luck is required.

As the night got late I decided to plug the electric in and make some music. I hooked the ipod to the amp and put it on shuffle. I discovered that I now have the ability to not only find the right key, but can listen to a riff and after working for a few minutes find the notes to play it. One of my favorite Lanterna songs began and I soon was able to play along with the riff. This made me happy, and after I got tired and put the guitar down it occurred to me that I can find the notes of any riff just by playing along 1 string. I almost always forget that the standard musical language has only 7 whole notes, and a handful of in-betweens. When compared to a spoken language, this seems very manageable.

I am also getting more skilled with bending.vibrato, my mind/body figuring out that if the thumb presses into the wood as I am making the movement, the bend/vibrato becomes easier to execute.

One thing which still eludes me is how to make a fast run of notes. I believe I have the necessary coordination but I have not learned how to sequence the placing of fretting fingers and pick. When I watch videos of fast playing I see that the pick is hardly moving at all, maybe 1 pick and then 4 or 5 notes are played until another pick, which tells me that the fretting fingers are pressing down making the notes sound out. Thus far this does not seem doable, but I will keep working on it.

Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye

I am beginning to create a way of living which is meaningful, enjoyable, and filled with mystery and excitement. I have been somewhat successful in eliminating the things which bring me no peace and do not contribute to my well being. I no longer read news written by the government, and have stopped following sports. Because of this my mind must confront from moment to moment what is directly in front of it - useless details and harmful gossip (which is what 99% of news and sports is) no longer have the opportunity to poison my mind.

By adding meditation to the recent subtractions, my life is once again thriving in a world created by my own imagination. Time has slowed, productivity is high, and common activities, such as cooking and eating a meal, allow for reflections upon the day's rich experiences.

While at work yesterday I was contemplating how to spend the rest of the day after leaving the office at noon. I decided that I would walk to the Square and work on another drawing.

Upon arriving at home I packed a lunch, hot tea, the laptop, and my drawing materials. I also carried with me 3 framed photographs, which I dropped off at the Art Coop (a new store at the Square), which is having an open b/w photography exhibit. I normally do not enter my photographs into competitions, but since there is no judge to accept or reject, I decided it would be nice to share a few of my pictures.

After dropping off the photographs I set up at a wooden table in the corridor. I have not yet had the chance to photograph any more old negatives, so while eating leftover pasta I visited my Flickr account and looked at some of the painting-like photographs I had made a couple of years ago. Those images were meant to one day be painted, and last year I began the project by printing 4 of the images on watercolor paper and painting over the ink with paint. The results pleased me, and I have one of the pictures hanging in my apartment.

Since I am now drawing again, I find no reason to print the photo-paintings, as I can draw them instead. While my hand will not be as accurate with lines and perspective, it allows my mind to slow down and closely examine the details of the scene. The process is therefore more meaningful, soothing, and memorable.

I decided upon an image which I entitled Little Known Bird of the Inner Eye, which shows my hand adjacent a sunlit wall spotted with heavy shadows. Upon the wall appears an apparition of a bird. It is one of my more imaginative creations, as the bird did not exist on the wall, and I am unsure where it came from.

After finishing my meal I began the drawing and finished half of the hand. As I began to pack up my materials I checked my email and found a message from Frank Ward, a man who manages a rum refinery in Barbados. Frank owns many of my best photographs, and he told me in his message that he was wondering what I was up to, so he searched for me on the internet and found my Flickr page. He was drawn to the set "Darkroom Work, 2009", and asked if he could buy 6 or 7 of the photographs, if they were still available. The prints in that set were the last of my darkroom work, and I still have many of them. After 18 years of work, all that is left are two boxes of photographs. It will be hard to part with the prints he wants, because I will not be able to replace them, but I won't refuse to sell them to Frank because he already owns many of my best photographs. It is a playful dream of mine to one day visit him in Barbados so that I can view all of the photographs collected together into one sunny room.

Wall Street

Wall Street, Test Sketch #2

Last night I dreamt of the Wall Street drawing. I was working it on a large sheet of paper, but a woman who sat next to me in Lincoln Square a couple of days ago showed up in the dream and looked at the drawing, then asked me to come with her. I did, and I never returned. When I woke, I had trouble deciding which part of the dream I liked better, but was inspired to work on the drawing nonetheless.

After meditating for an hour and cleaning the apt. I decided that rather than work in an isolated environment, it would be more enjoyable to be in a public place, so I packed up my drawing materials, laptop and a small thermos filled with green tea and walked 500 yards to the square. The corridor outside Common Ground is a pleasant area with little foot traffic, a nice place to spend a winter morning.

I pulled up the Wall Street image on the computer and began sketching in the drawing pad. While the dream had inspired me to work it into a large format, I thought it would be a good idea to make a more complete test drawing. Unlike the quick scribble I made a couple of days ago, I started with the hardest part, the side of the bank, followed by the figures.

Initially it was my idea to work in only the three main figures, but as I studied the image I decided that it would be best to include all the people because it seemed more true to the day.

I listened to music on my headphones, scratched down the lines, and soon got into a flow which made me remember my days spent in the darkroom. I could easily work 10-12 hours printing and yet it would feel like an hour. About half way through a young woman sat down next to me and it felt like I had re-entered the previous evening's dream.

Seven hours later I rose from my seat and stretched, too tired to put the finishing touches on the drawing. While I was able to complete the composition, I was unsure how to breathe more life into it. Usually when all the lines are put down the fun begins with the shading and erasing, but my mind was too beat to go any further. I am not sure if I will return to test sketch No. 2, as I plan to one day paint it.

The Beginner's Path

Wall Street

Paul Strand

I am currently working on my second drawing, from a negative exposed during my visit to Manhattan in 1992. I was searching for the spot where Paul Strand stood to make his famous photograph of Wall Street. I recognized the bank with the long, cavernous windows, and then walked up the steps of a building across the street. I sensed that Strand must have stood close by, so I lined up the angles of the building and aimed the camera. There were some elements of the composition I would have liked to erase, such as the bulky news stand and an ugly sign board. There were 3 people standing marvelously synchronized, but there were a few others who stood around looking out of place. I released the shutter and then listened to a black man preaching to a small crowd about racism. A large German man standing with his wife shouted to the black man about lies and the two shouted each other down.

Upon first glance the Wall street composition seems simple enough, so I decided to make a quick test sketch to accustom my mind with the main lines. As I began to scribble I found that the eye had fooled me – while the perspective is straight forward, there are numerous elements which the eye glosses over. I spent a few hours working out the difficult parts. The 3 figures will be challenging, as well as the part where the bank changes direction. I will be happy to leave out the news stand and the unneeded bystanders.

Wall Street, Test Sketch

******

One of the reasons I began this journal is to document the process of learning the guitar. More than my personal progress, I wanted to attempt to understand how a person of average ability goes about learning something complex. After 14 months of practice and progress, it is time to write a summary of the first phase.

The first thing needed was the inspiration to make the decision to practice and learn the guitar for a long period of time. Also helpful was the fact that I knew nothing of the instrument or music theory – I was going in blind, deaf, and dumb. Joseph from work provided the spark for me to buy an electric guitar, and in December, 2009 began the journey.

The next step was deciding how to proceed. Being ignorant left me feeling helpless and overwhelmed. Using the internet I sought out beginner's guides to guitar. I decided upon a site which offered a logical step by step approach. There were 11 chapters, and I am currently on Chapter 9. While being helpful and allowing me to take my first baby steps, what lacked was an overall universal plan which described how I could get to where I wanted to go.

The one thing I did know was where I wanted to be – possessing the knowledge and skill to sit with the guitar and produce sounds which reflected my emotions and ideas. However, I was walking the first mile of a thousand mile trip, and the only guide I had was a few lines drawn in the sand. What I yearned for was a detailed atlas clearly illustrating the traps, dangers, and dead ends which surely awaited me.

Not knowing of any guitar books written like an atlas, I decided a live teacher could show me the way. I chose one at random at the local guitar store, which was probably not the best way to go about finding a guitar sage - not only was I ignorant of the guitar, but also guitar teachers. I knew I had erred when, during the first lesson, the teacher put aside without reading the guitar goals I had taken the time to write out for him. Without knowing who I was and how my mind worked, how could a teacher get me to where I wanted to go?

I soon quit going to the teacher, and did a more diligent search for an appropriate master. I found a pleasant enough young man who was willing to listen to my ideas, goals and concerns, but within a few weeks time he decided he could no longer teach me due to my attitude of disrespect toward teachers in general. The only things I was learning from the master were things which could easily be found on the internet – chords, songs, how to hold the guitar correctly, etc. The purpose of the master was to inspire and make sure I did not lose the way. This second teacher was merely like all of the other teachers in other fields I had come across – a parrot which repeated things found in books.

I decided that while there were probably a few teachers in the world who could fit my idea of what a master should be, I was convinced that finding one would take as long as mastering the guitar. I therefore reluctantly returned to my step by step internet manual.

I was now wandering around in a thick forest, off of any clear pathway. Not wanting to stand still, I decided I had to move forward and used whatever sense I had to bushwhack my way to light and open space. There were times when I felt I wanted to give up, that the darkness which clouded my mind would be too difficult to remove. Yet I knew that these early struggles could be overcome if I just did not give up, so every day I entered the music studio and did what I could.

I continued searching for guides and teachers on the internet. I found a master named Claude who had created a software program which helped with learning patterns on the fretboard. This intrigued me and I began to use it. Claude sent me mass emails every couple of days, and I found his good humor and knowledge to be inspiring.

Soon after finding Claude I discovered a book called the Principles of Correct Guitar Practice. I had read a few of the author's online essays, and the Zen philosophy which flavored the ideas attracted me. I decided to buy the book, hoping it would be a partial atlas which could help guide me.

After reading through the book I was pleased with the direction it could take me. A few “simple” guitar exercises were the only physical things which I had to do. The majority of the book was aimed at creating the proper attitude in the student. I greedily took in these ideas of attitude change and began to practice two of the exercises.

The exercises are aimed at creating a relaxed, yet strong fretting hand, as well as a way to relax the entire body. The principles of Zen were once again evident – focus on the present, correctly breathe, relax the body, and at the proper time use the strength of muscle and mind. This philosophy of guitar is as close as I have come to finding the path which will lead me to where I want to go.

Summary of things learned after year 1 :

• Important to spend time with the guitar as much as possible.

• Fretting exercises should be done with the intent of creating finger strength, autonomy, and relaxation.

• Use effort to learn basic music theory – notes, fret board patterns, scales.

• Keep in mind where I want to go – use of the guitar as a way to express emotions and ideas.

• Spend time playing along to music which interests me (blues, instrumental solos).

• Glean information from as many sources as possible, and always be looking for a master teacher who fits my philosophy of learning.

• Never give up!

Playing the Blues

Lately I have been tuning into internet radio and listening to a stream of various blues music. With my apartment being isolated I do not need to worry about disturbing neighbors so I crank the amp and as it pulses the music I begin jamming on my guitar. Last night I did this and shook my head in wonderment as things which once seemed foreign now occurred without my having to think about it. Finding the correct key used to take me 20 minutes, as I learned more 10, then 5, now it takes between 10-20 seconds. I find one note which sounds correct, move up 2 frets, if that sounds off I know the 3rd fret is good, and I then quickly deduce the pattern I am in, which allows me to create a giant pattern on the whole fretboard.

Along with pattern knowledge, my comfort with the mechanics continues to improve. The pick usually hits the right string and the fretting hand is daily becoming more relaxed, allowing for longer and more accurate movements. This week my string bending and vibrato improved due to increased strength in the hand and fingers. The flow of knowing which notes to pick when soloing is also becoming more intuitive and clear.

All of the above are basics which have to be mastered before any music can be played or created, but as my surprising progress continues to unfold, the music aspect becomes more interesting and varied. It is so much like my experience with photography. When I began I could make 1 good negative out of 100 tries, and as the years went by and the amount of practice time accumulated, that ratio was improved until I was hitting 1 out of every 2, sometimes better. With printing, it took me 5 years before I made a print I liked, but it eventually became normal to produce one good print per darkroom session, sometimes making as many as 5 decent prints in just a few hours. With guitar I still have not made that first good "print", and like photography, it will probably come at the 5 year mark, so 4 more years of struggle until the music begins to magically appear.

With the above being said, the music is gradually surfacing in small chunks. Things appear suddenly out of nowhere - a phrase, melody, or bass line. One recent example being the main riff from Cream's Sunshine of Your Love. By accident I played the first 3 notes of the phrase, recognized it, and then pieced together the remaining 7-10 notes. Last night I found a phrase from a song by The Doors. Along with the well known phrases, I find I am constantly coming up with original ones. It reminds me of the writing process - piecing together words in a pleasing way to convey a mood or atmosphere.

Another new ability is I can now play comfortably standing up. I recall the first time I tried it I pulled a muscle in my foot, strained my neck, and the guitar felt heavy and cumbersome. My muscles have now become adjusted to the weight and shape of the instrument, so things have become much easier.

I have kept my old photography attitude about the learning process. I never wanted to take a photography class because I thought it would hinder my progress - I knew what I wanted, and I had the confidence that my mind and spirit would be able to figure out how to achieve it. In the end that assumption was correct. When I began guitar I recognized that music is more complicated than photography, so I decided a teacher was needed to teach me the basic grammar and spelling rules. Now that I know the bare bones of notes and playing mechanics, I believe the rest of the journey should be traveled alone. I know what I want from music, and the task is to find out how to get it. That after all is the point of doing it - the challenge and fun of bringing into reality the music which already exists inside of me.

Drawing I

Chicago Winter, Morning

Today work was canceled due to a severe winter storm, although I think in this case what the weather was forecast to be influenced the perception of what actually happened. 1 foot of snow isn't exactly stay home weather, but I was happy to remain indoors and work on the drawing which I started last week.

The first session with the drawing I stopped with only 1/4 completed. The perspective of the bridge was a bit tricky, but the fact that I had not made a drawing in so long made my confidence waver when looking upon the initial lines I had put to paper. While I was aware that the beginning of any drawing is not going to look very good, I still doubted whether I could push past the first awkward looking lines.

So I let the drawing sit for 6 or 7 days on my kitchen table where it could taunt me by the hour. A few days ago I had a dream that I sat down to the drawing and picked out a pencil which marked dark, heavy lines. It helped to create the shadows needed to offset the stick figure lines which I had begun with. When I woke from the dream I was pleased and confident that I could finish the drawing. Not only is it pleasurable to observe the mind create detailed works of art, but I now believed that picking a shading pencil would help me finish the drawing.

Today I sat down and chose a thick charcoal pencil and began to draw, shape, shade, erase - my mind got into that special flow where time stops and the only thing that matters are the lines on the page.