For my part, I have reached another impasse point. I don't have enough time or energy to continue writing for new pieces, plus fine tuning current pieces, while being an adequate guitarist. The weekend was not downtime for me and I need some tasty new impressions to clear my head. The position is the same with the others.
When we run the "repertoire" it becomes apparent immediately that homework has been taking place ("woodshedding" in American). Each increment represents attention, time, physical - mental - emotional energies, and all of this/these then become available to the other guys in the Team. It's remarkable to experience this: the work of Pat / Adrian Trey gives me additional strength to keep going.
Ken Latchney continues to be a Hero. In addition to spending his day in the control room, with mayhem entering the sauna of his enclosed world through speakers and an occasionally opening door, he is also an all-round equipment wonder. Today he cast his healing touches over one of my Eventides which unwound & frazzled yesterday (a chip loosened from spending its working life on the road).
This morning an insight: I was wondering why I put so much time, and quality attention, into n-loguing with the Guestbook. Why bother? Specifically, why even address pratty commentary of a personal nature, such as Orn's? (There, my view on the quality of Orn's insights has slipped through). And then I remembered why.
If you have a practice, you'll probably have a sense of what is implied by this. And if your head is placed so far from sunlight that your opinion on the weather is unreliable, you won't. And yet most of the commentary on these two sentences will come from the sunlight-deprived. The "We Have The Right To Sunlight" campaign will affirm the ignoble tendencies of a Heartless Raging Person to comment upon light deprivation. Alternatively, affirm your right to unfurl a suppository. Which is, fundamentally & essentially, your right to provide yourself with a reminder that somewhere the sun is shining.
15.34 That was the least fun I've had since arriving in Nashville: alone in the studio playing the guitar part to "Larks' V" onto ADAT, click at 138 and almost continuous semi-quavers. The loneliest lonely I am able to presently imagine.
The guitar playing was, may I say, not good. This is one of my most vulnerable, weakest days of the process so far and, to be presented with the challenge of my most difficult part, and alone, at the lowest time of my bio-day is, well, part of life's rich tapestry.
"We recognise in others what we know most deeply in ourselves."
