Category Archives: everyday observations

Buster

Tonight Cody almost gingerly flipped through the pages of my Wicked paperback for a good 10 minutes. He had no interest in stopping, either, when I hinted at him lying down to sleep. It was pretty extraordinary, considering how recently he has been destroying Dr. Seuss baby board books and the like, either by chewing or attempting a reversal of the binding. I was wondering if his respectful page turning has something to do with observing the way I handle the book when I am reading it both aloud to him and silently. People do remark on his observational bent, although they don’t always interpret it as such. It can come across to some as a somber, slightly aloof affect. But if you spend enough time with him, you see that he displays that gaze when there’s something worthy of study.
He seemed to appreciate having a TV dinner-esque meal fed to him tonight. When he would tire of one item, I luckily (from some bit of experience) had other options ready at the offing. He ate samplings of Khwan’s fried rice with salmon and egg; her couscous with tomato, ground pork, onions, cilantro, and other savories; some apple blueberry sauce; and Liberte strawberry yogurt. This was all washed down with intermittent sips of water, which he kindly doesn’t spit out boxer-style anymore, and of course his favorite propranolol dose. His eating preferences are an interesting moving target, changing as he grows. Of course he is also a moving target since we’ve stopped bothering with his high chair now with his recent deep hatred of confinement of any sort.

originally published on 7/30/11

Piecemeal

I’ve come to better terms with my nail situation. It is a funny sort of balancing act, just like a lot of things. And as you get more familiar with a given issue, it is easier to seek that compromise amidst the outer edges of its variables. In the case of the fingernail issue, there are the subtleties I alluded to in the previous blog – appropriate length, frequency of clipping, angle of the left hand, specific adjustments in certain positions with certain notes, shifting questions, etc. I am glad that I have aired this out. I hadn’t realized what an important factor it was in restricting my choices with regard to general left hand cello technique. It was essentially unconscious, which as we all know can be quite a powerful place to undermine things from.

originally published on 11/17/07

Wearier

There’s an issue of scope. It runs from the very small to the very large. Am I supposed to focus on the moment as it is happening or see the grand scheme leading up to and coming away from the now? And where should I start and end from? I am finding my physical challenges particularly apparent right now. In what context can I place fatigue? In the moment I strive to avoid it. But as my schedule compounds and it becomes unavoidable, I see it can be an ally in enriching the music-making. It is like an athlete who reaches his peak after a good amount of time placing his body under stress. There is an arc created, but it is difficult to account for it in the present moment.

originally published on 11/29/07

Resist

I took a nap before the concert tonight, and it gave me an ease at the outset of the performance that I don’t often feel without a great deal of concentration and (non)effort. Last summer I blogged about trying to play with utter looseness, a la Perlman. I felt it oddly unnatural and unsatisfying to not exert much effort, perhaps due to the contrast from what I am accustomed to. Tonight I remembered another phase I went through – Krishnamurti immersion. He frequently talks about non-effort, non-conflict, non-worry and non-thinking. They are tantalizing concepts, but the last time I perused one of his books I was less than taken by his philosophizing.
I like the idea of extending the technical issues I have on the cello out to the rest of my existence. That’s of course been a great quest and fantasy of mine for decades.

As the concert progressed, I gradually lost that pleasurable ease. It tends to be fleeting like that. It’s as though I like to have something to butt up against. I like friction, resistance. I need them, more to the point. I realized that I also like to hear other performers with some of that taste for friction. I am unmoved by totally comfortable, unperturbed players. It’s like watching a piece of cardboard play music.

originally published on 1/26/08

Morning Musings

I feel sticky ’cause I ate cheese. The oils come out in my pores, I guess. Happily I have this new Burt’s Bees cleanser that feels tingly and smells lemony. It’s much gentler than the Lush tea tree oil soap I’ve been using. I also have the Kiss My Face line of olive oil bar soaps for general shower use. Just position some rosemary and oregano on me and I’ll be ready for the oven!
That Mahler 4 refuses to depart from my brain. Even something so great suffers from umpteen recyclings inside a human skull. I wonder if that’s one of the ways you know you’re obliged/destined to be a musician. Maybe it also depends on how it is reproduced in there. One of my teachers used to idealistically talk about how crucial the ear, both external and imagination-based, is in creating a final product on the instrument. I say idealistically because it is so far removed from the mundane practical advice one is usually given from teachers and coaches. For me, bringing philosophy and abstract notions into discussions of cello playing was quite fruitful. I suppose it is akin to my own way of conceiving music-making.

The laptop edge is leaning on my abdomen in an annoying yet gratifying way. Perhaps I should return it to its resting place and get the heck out of bed.

originally published on 2/9/08

Lean-To

Here is some of my journaling from today: I got worked up in rehearsal. I always get worked up at rehearsals. I start out okay, if I’m lucky. Then I start losing myself. My true self. Then my fighting, venting, passive-aggressive self begins to take over. Then it’s over. It’s just a question of how rapid the descent.
I guess it’s hard for me to think about the future when I am secretly (even to myself) ruminating over past events. I would obviously like to be able to plan future events. It would be more fun to have an idea of how my life might blossom and grow, or even just scheduling a nice vacation trip. I guess I feel lucky to make it one day at a time due to the burden weighing on me from unresolved relation(ships).

I’m back. Actually the rehearsal was a positive experience for me. I started out in quite a different place than my usual work/musician mindset. And there’s really only one possible explanation. Self discovery. I know for a fact that my self-awareness and wisdom directly affect music-making. It ain’t no theory.

originally published on 3/19/08

Cheshire

My monkey is fatigued. It does its dance all day, all night. It is the mind monkey. I had to laugh tonight in the middle of the Mozart Requiem as I observed its antics. I guess I never really liked the metaphor of the monkey, but now I am getting it. It has a lot of personality. It is actually your pseudo-self, your scattered self. Your externally obsessed self. It actually can seem very entertaining until one notices how tiresome it gets. That’s why it’s called the monkey. It’s not going anywhere – it’s a natural part of you. But it’s important to distinguish yourself from it. Your truer self, one hopes.

originally published on 10/11/08

Sentence

I have that Bocelli encore in my head.

My bed smells weird – is that still the new bed smell?

I released my left hand pretty well this week.

I remembered some wondrous Starker tutelage while helping my young student.

It’s interesting to figure out where you are different and the same as your partner.

It’s getting hotter.

I have to buy a pool fence.

Cody is sleeping, but not at his normal time.

I guess I should have a party.

My dreams are intense when a virus is being fought.

originally published on 4/18/11

Untowards

A friend of mine points out that I am highly judgmental of myself and others. It ends up making me extreme in my reactions and opinions. And neurotic. And impatient. It is all reflective of the ways in which I judge the world. I judge it by speed (impatient) and quality (snobby) and whether it serves me well (self-obsessed). But it all comes back to constant overseeing judgmentalness. It is my endless hamster wheel. Round and round. Back and forth. It is so comfortable and familiar, I couldn’t even imagine getting off the ride, the merry-go-round, the miserable-go-round. But I could. It could happen. I could stop long enough to step off onto the real ground, the real universe. I think I do step off (almost inadvertently) at times. Do I know when that takes place? I think so. I feel different then.

originally published on 3/23/07

Iffy

I played tonight here in WY. I was focusing on my relaxation goals. I noticed the response of my instinct/training in regards to my breathing. On different nights I breathe differently. Of course, everything changes on a constant basis. It can be rather annoying, but once a nice girl colleague at a music festival told me it’s better than being bored.

One thing I noticed about breathing is the continuum between total inhalation and total exhalation and the effect it has on my overall sensation. When you inhale it is a refreshing, invigorating feeling, and it gives a somewhat strengthening result. During exhalation, you feel soothed, calmed and loosened. It can make you feel like rubber.

The troubling thing that happens in my head if I make strides, is that I get overwhelmed by the possibilities and permutations. I suppose that isn’t helpful for any mental equilibrium.

originally published on 8/5/07