Stuff

Fits and starts, that's how my blogging goes these days. I don't know what that really means but I do know it means that I take long breaks, followed by hearty spurts of activity on wKHM. Love me, hate my blogging reliability; that's OK.

Music
The kind I make: I'm still pursuing competency with a guitar but I've discovered something that actually helps ease the frustration of a novice student---picking up my flute and making pleasant twitters without much effort. Learning guitar requires so much brain processing---what's that note, where are my fingers supposed to go, how come it hurts when I do that, adjust, test, adjust, adjust, shake out hand, does that sound right? as opposed to fluting where its kind of automatic...not much brain required when playing tunes long ago imprinted on the brain and formed in bursts of muscle movement.

And actually, that's a very happy finding for me because I put down my musical pursuits when I believed I had discovered that I had no natural aptitude, that I was really just a technician---not much of an ear, no real musical ideas of my own. I wish I hadn't allowed myself to believe that for so long because I have, indeed, decided otherwise. My ear is pretty good and after all these years, I have a pretty innate sense of how to produce pitches on the instrument without thinking of it much. Billy Joel said, "it always comes as a surprise when I feel my withered roots begin to grow" in an early song called Summer Highland Falls. That comes to mind a lot as I play these days.

Realizing that getting back in touch with my woodwind skills will help move my guitar learning forward more quickly, I allowed myself to replace the flute I have played forever---a gift from my paternal grandparents at a point when my playing would have been put on hiatus for a year were it not for their generosity. I'm passing that stalwart piece of aluminum and nickel plate to niece Kells as she is without easy access to pianos or other instruments in her current college digs. It feels great to fill the same void for her and I can't wait for the opportunity to play with her: we've never had two flutes between us previously so this may well be the beginning of a new kind of family fun.

Of music made by others, I'm very excited that this Friday brings a date to see The Melissa Walker Group featuring supreme bassist C. McBride (my man), next weekend is Steve Tyrell with a decent bass dude some of you guys might know--Lyman Medeiros, anybody? -- as well as an all around good-guy band; the following weekend we'll be back at The Kennedy Center to see Dave Holland with a quintet including Jason Moran and Eric Harland---heavenly stuff for me. Bass Heaven.

Books
I've begun reading what appears to be a fascinating non-fiction account of the dubious history of Imperial County, California. Not imaginatively titled, Imperial by William Vollman might well represent the work of a lifetime but is in fact only one of many very fine pieces of research and writing by Vollman--it garnered his second National Book Award (2005). I have to say that even though I'm fascinated by it, its a total bummer. It makes me want to disconnect myself from this modern lifestyle and move somewhere out West and take responsibility for production of my own food in a sustainable and well, non-Imperial, way. I've long been troubled by how much of our food supply relies on international trade agreements to say nothing of the horrors of our exploitation (and vilification) of migrant, undocumented and marginalized illegals. In this age of debate about illegal immigration and the particular environmental and political issues facing California, this is an intriguing read. And kids: its AMAZINGLY written. Riveting, actually. I'd encourage you to pick it up, but weighing in at 4.5 lbs, it might require the assistance of a friend---