Scissors

Scissors

I went to the library yesterday and got a few Lonely Planet travel guides for various places around the globe which seem interesting, and perhaps cheaper than the USA - Belize, Guatemala, Laos, Sri Lanka, Panama. In Chicago I worked with a guy named Mo from Sri Lanka who had just graduated from the Art Institute. One time on break we walked up to the 8th floor storage area and found a few original art pieces by famous artists such as Ed Paschke and Diane Arbus. Mo was unimpressed, and we discussed what makes a good piece of art. I happened to have my camera with me and snapped a picture of him smoking a cigarette.

Mo eventually returned to Sri Lanka and is now an internationally famous artist. I recall him telling me that I should go to Sri Lanka because it is more beautiful than the USA. If I do consider living in Sri Lanka for an extended period I should perhaps contact Mo and ask him for suggestions on where to live and if he knows of any cheap apartments for rent. Having at least one contact in a foreign country would be helpful.

Mo on the 8th Floor

Future Plans

With my lease soon coming to an end, I need to decide if I want to remain in Urbana. I have various thoughts and desires about living elsewhere, but having ended my marriage and moved into an apartment only four months ago, I feel it is best that I remain in the apartment until next July. Part of the reason is because in just a few days I will be returning to the 40 hour work week. This depresses the hell out of me, as I have enjoyed working 20 hours a week for the past four years. In January I began working 30 hours a week, which isn't too bad because I work from 6:00am-noon, or 7:00-1:00, depending on when I wake up in the morning. My eight hour schedule will be 6:00-2:30 (a 30 minute lunch is required by law), which is as good as it gets for an eight hour day. The thing that will drag me down is working in the same place eight hours a day, day after day after day. I know I will get the old feelings of restlessness, fatigue, and the nauseous thought of "anyplace but here".

The positive side is I will be making enough money to save $500 a month, so that by the time my lease is up I should have an extra $6000-7000 in the bank (barring an unexpected medical emergency). That thought alone should give me the energy to wake up in the mornings and slog another dreary day in the office. With my current savings at $10,000, and with Rachel owing me $9700 for my portion of the house, that puts me at $26,000. When I quit my job I will have $7000-8000 being added to my savings, which puts me around $33,000. To be safe I can round down and expect to have $30,000 in my savings by next July. Living in the midwest USA I can survive comfortably (with no car) for $1000 per month, giving me 2 1/2 years of freedom from having to work for others.

Considering that the USA is a relatively expensive place to live, what if I could find a place somewhere in the world where I could live comfortably for $500 a month? I would then have unlimited freedom and solitude for 5 years. By the end of the 5 years I will be 50 years old, and most likely old enough to no longer care about jobs and careers, etc, or maybe I will no longer be alive, thus cheating a future employer of cheap labor.

I am reminded of the Hermann Hesse story Klein and Wagner, where Klein, a civil servant, aged 40, robs his employer and rides a train south to Italy. He falls in love with a young woman, has a few adventures, and then drowns himself. Another story, whose name and author escape me, is of a man who quits his job and moves to a cheap foreign land which is pleasing and artful. A few years later the man's savings are depleted and he goes insane and dies. These stories give me pause in my desire to move out of the country and live off of my savings...

We're Going Wrong & the Big Dream in the Sky

Yesterday I made more progress with the guitar. I have been listening to a lot of Cream songs and put We're Going Wrong on repeat and riffed to it for 40 minutes. My picking speed and accuracy was better than usual, and I gained some depth in my knowledge of the pentatonic scale. I discovered that I can add a non-pent note when riffing to certain songs, such as We're Going Wrong, and it totally fits, kind of like the blue note, but with a different feel. I forgot to check what the note was, so I just now walked over to the guitar and picked it up, but forgot which two strings I was moving into when using it. I am starting to find my own style with vibrato, I have trouble turning my wrist back and forth, so have assimilated my classical vibrato with a bit of the turn, it sounds pretty good. I am sure a guitar teacher would disapprove, but it works for now.

Now that I am moving slowly toward my goal of playing the blues, I find I am practicing longer and harder, seeing that it may just be possible to get to where I want to be. I have set a high standard for myself, as I want to be able to express the music inside of me, which will require the skill of an Eric Clapton or Buddy Guy - it's fun to dream....

I brought my digital camera on my morning walk today :

Morning Walk I

Morning Walk II

Morning Walk III

Morning Walk IV

Sophia Sleeps

Detail #1

Detail #2

Somewhere

Somewhere, looking up,

beyond the night mist,

is a brightness

waiting patiently

for me to lose my grip.

Within me are golden memories,

each one more precious than the last,

but an ache swims through and across me,

searching for one which is lost.

Somewhere, I know,

you are waiting for me,

your infinite beauty

beyond the sight of the ashen faces

on the great, green earth.

I know you are there,

your moist breath

spinning the world,

awaiting the grasp of my closing eyes.

Gray Spring

Gray spring

wind dripping,

at rest upon an empty street.

Heavy time

pregnant with hope,

creeping through wet grass,

a red tulip bending low.

A thousand creatures

move to and fro

readying for emergence,

my lonely room awaits the knock.

Tipping Point

Spring Morning

Last night I practiced guitar for a couple of hours. My normal practice routine is to start with slow finger movements, such as the "walking" exercise set out in the Andreas Principles book. This exercise is the crux of my current practice routine. Once learned, the student has a set of finger skills which can be used for playing any style of music. However, it is not an easy thing to master, as I have been working with it for 6 months and am still far from obtaining the required speed and accuracy. But the more I work with it the stronger my fingers become, which allows my practice in other areas to become more productive.

After 30 minutes of the walking exercise and a few minutes spent on sliding bar chords, regular chord changes, and the chromatic scale, I played along to an A minor blues jam track for 1 hour. I put the track on repeat, each new time around finding a nuance in note selection, vibrato, string bending, or picking style.

During this session it occurred to me that I had reached one of the tipping points in my guitar quest. One of the reasons I write in this journal is to examine how I go about learning something from the beginning. I have already made note of the 1st year struggles, and how it is important to have faith that the mind and body will discover a way to overcome the many obstacles which prevent the beginning student from playing well. My current learning phase is in the refining of basic skills, allowing for added confidence and momentum, which in turn fuels the desire to practice more. This extended practice and enthusiasm leads to a further gain in skills, which in turn fuels greater momentum. Having reached this stage, learning and progress becomes quicker and easier.

There is another interesting thing to note - the perception that one has put in hundreds of hours of practice. Thinking back on the struggle and the will to continue and push forward, the thought arises as to how many beginning guitar students have put in as much work as I have? The people who have are undoubtedly already proficient in guitar play, but I believe that my Asperger tendency to focus intensely on a subject puts me ahead of a person who believes one hour a day of practice is a lot. On the other hand, my paltry 2-3 hour sessions look pale in comparison to a virtuoso who plays 8-10 hours a day. The lesson here is that the more one plays, the better one gets - practice, practice, practice!

Sophia's Dream

Sophia's Dream, Detail

On the Road Again

This past week I have put in a couple of 2-3 hour practice sessions with the guitar. Since playing with Joseph a month ago one of the things I have been working at is sliding bar chords. Yesterday I was listening to a couple of Canned Heat blues songs (Going Up the Country and On the Road Again), and decided to learn the chords and play along. I found that Going Up the Country required a sliding bar chord going from fret 6 to 11, then down to fret 1. Normally the hardest place to play are the frets near the nut (frets 1-3), but I found placing the fingers in the cramped space of fret 11 to be challenging. To play On the Road Again I was especially satisfied when I was able to create the blues boogie pattern. I had always wanted to play that kind of rambling/rolling blues rhythm, and guessed it would take playing a combination of exotic, hard to finger chords. So I was surprised to find that it was a familiar pattern that I practice everyday - E/G/A. The tricky part is in the timing and strumming, but I quickly picked it up and was jamming along without much problem. This experience taught me that with a few simple chords many different styles of music can be created through timing variations.

The Magpie

Detail from The Magpie

A few weeks ago I began a correspondence with a young woman from Sweden named Sophia. Her letters contain a life bending poetry which leave indelible images in my head, reminding me of dreams I have had of paintings. Sensing the pictures in my mind inspire me to transfer them to paper. The drawing I posted earlier entitled Fur Elise was my first attempt, and tonight I made a second drawing. I have an idea for a third, and if we continue to correspond I hope to make a series of drawings based on Sophia's poetic letters.

Drawing #2 from the Sophia Series

Found Art

This winter I took it easy with my running mojo and let days pass before lacing up the cross country shoes. I just don't like running in cold weather, and even though I numbed myself to it during my 16 month running streak, it wasn't exactly my cup of tea. So it is no surprise that I am woefully out of shape and overweight as the spring season arrives. The long rest period, however, has energized my overworked legs, and this week, with the warm weather arriving in spades, I have run for 5 consecutive days, knocking off the winter rust and a couple of pounds.

After my run on Thursday I was walking back on my usual route, and when I finished crossing the sushi restaurant parking lot on University Avenue I passed a dumpster adjacent the railroad tracks. I had a nice flow going in my head, thinking about Oregon, guitar, Zen, and drawing, when I noticed the edge of a matted picture sticking out of said dumpster. Normally this dumpster is filled with construction refuse, so seeing a colorful picture next to rotted planks and musty cardboard jolted me out of my reveries. I walked over to the blue steel container and gently pulled the picture out, being careful not to rub it against anything rough and dirty. The artwork was large, and placed in an 18"x22" white mat. I was impressed with the subject matter and the execution. As I looked closer I saw that the image was printed on textured watercolor paper, and the backing board behind the mat had a gallery stamp with handwriting, "Altman, 1986". Inscribed on the front left of the picture was "Printed in France by Mourlot", and on the right "Altman".

Looking around and seeing nobody, I decided that the picture was indeed discarded, and carried if off using both hands. I thought of a scene from the film Bobby G Can't Swim, when Bobby has to throw a $20,000 brick of cocaine into a New York City trash can to avoid getting busted by the cops. When he returns to the trash can to retrieve the brick he is unable to find it, and this is the beginning of the end for Bobby G. When I arrived at the Square I stopped at the frame shop and asked how much a basic frame would cost, and agreed to pay $38.

Before picking up the frame today I did some internet research on Altman and discovered he was a prolific lithographic artist. I also found information on the picture, which is entitled "Reflections". I hung the picture in my living room, and it reminds me that I still have some luck left in this life.

Reflections

Fur Elise

Fur Elise

Flowers on the Wall

Evening Walk II

Guitar practice is moving steadily along. A couple of days ago I was barring the 10th fret and discovered a haunting melody, it then occurred to me to use a capo so that I could use all four fingers. It was the first time I used the capo, which I bought when I started playing guitar 15 months ago. After clamping it down I was startled at the unusual beauty of the sound. Since then I have been using the capo at different frets, discovering the convenience of being able to play in any key while still using familiar chord patterns.

Yesterday I was inspired to practice three times throughout the day and night, finally putting the guitar down at 1:00am. The more I learn, the more I want to practice. Each day I feel more comfortable, the fingers becoming not only stronger, but more relaxed and coordinated. I am not sure where all of this is leading but I have a confident feeling that I will continue to improve.

Last week I joined an artist cooperative in downtown Urbana. After paying the monthly fee I carried numerous drawings, paintings, and photographs to the gallery. I talked with one of the resident artists, Mehta. He was loquacious and friendly, sharing ideas on the creative process and even showing me his small studio room where he makes his art pieces. I doubt anything of mine will sell, but it is a good opportunity to exhibit a few things. Before leaving the gallery I bought a large oil painting of flowers for $40, which I hung in my bedroom when I got home.

Wolf 09