Scribbles and Scrambles ~ On the Edge

This violin thing has been going on for two years. TWO YEARS. Granted, there's been progress, lots of it. But part of me feels like I should be symphony ready by now.

It helps when I hear musicians who are talented at their instruments say that they tried violin and gave up because it was so complicated, or that they were certain they couldn't pull it off because the dang thing doesn't have frets.

My last lesson included tears. (Mine, not his. ) Why did I cry? Pure frustration. The notes I wanted to hit would fall short of reaching the goal, my timing got wacky and then the song I was playing didn't even sound like a recognizable song. AUGH!

My teacher calmed me down. Okay. I wasn't ugly crying or wailing, just a few tears. He didn't have to threaten to call someone to intervene. But he said (hope it wasn't something said to crazy people to let them down easy, dang it!) that it's really good that I can hear that the music I'm wanting to make is not coming out of my violin. To differentiate my playing on a scale from really awful to only a few mistakes is a skill. And I'm developing it which means I'm going to get there. 

Well, I'm sure not giving up now. One of these days. It's going to click. BTW Blogger ate half of this post. I thought it published this morning but not only did it not, it ate up some of what I had typed. Oh technology! 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ In Hind Sight...

 In hind sight, if I had known it would take two long years of fiddling around with my fiddle before I ever felt confident to play in church, I probably would've run the other direction. Okay. Walked real fast, like I was being pulled by super charged beagles, cuz I've pretty much decided I'm not a runner. K? 

When I thought I'd just pick up this wooden instrument and end up where I left off, I was WAY wrong. I've whined (or shared my insights, that sounds better, let's go with that) about the difficulty I'm having with coordinating my right hand, left hand and brain pathways. 

To be fair to any wannabes out there whom I do not want to discourage...I'm also not practicing an hour a day. So there's that. And there are days that are just too short to do any practicing, at all. Had I jumped fully into the white-capped waves and sank or swam, did or DOA, I'm sure my results would be different. Had I studied music theory separately, or immersed myself in all things rhythm maybe I'd have grasped it sooner. And I know if I followed everything my teacher taught me, I'd probably be playing regularly with others. (Plays well with others...ha ha, remember that from report cards?) 

On a whim I took a simple chord based piano class with a friend. She kinda talked me into it and I thought it might help to forge another avenue of music into my gray matter. I don't have a piano so I've gone over to my friend's to practice now and again. My violin teacher wanted me to jam with other musicians over the summer to help broaden my skills and I asked a friend here and there and got a "yeah, sure" response, but really, nothing happened. But naturally, through this music side class, a couple of us brought other instruments and we played along with some Christmas carols. And guess what I found out? There are magic things called key signatures, and when you understand them it's like the Rosetta Stone for music, or some such legendary stuff. My friend and I are also working out some songs together and she is struggling right along side of me. I guess this new epiphinus moment has made me bolder. My pastor has been asking for months when I'm ready to play. I finally told him I could play along with a Christmas carol. The worship team chose Silent Night. (BTW there are a LOT of variations, in every key I'm guessing, whew.) I got the official music from the pianist and then searched until I found the simplest version of it. Then I practiced. And practiced and learned more notes because there are a lot of notes on a violin and they are all about a flea shadow away from each other. Too high by a fraction of an inch and you are sharp, too low, flat, baby, flat. 

On Sunday, I played the three stanzas and didn't freeze, didn't get lost, didn't lag behind and I didn't embarrass myself. Granted, I was praying real hard as I picked up the violin that God would stop the shaking of my hands and keep the food in my stomach. I get to play again during Christmas Eve service and you know what, I'm okay with that. And now I think I can regularly start playing with others. The patient ones. And maybe one day I'll think what I play is beautiful. 

Two years. And had I looked at the song I eventually played in public I would have thought I could play it in lesson two. And doesn't that sum up a whole lot about human nature? 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Stuck in Traffic Jello?

I spent several hours in a seminar on rewiring your brain on Saturday. 

Fascinating. 

The speaker gave a word picture. At birth our brains are grassy, pristine, beautiful parks. Just glorious sunshine, blue skies and perky green grass ruffled by the gentle breeze. 

Our first experience causes us to walk across the grass. But if it's a one time stroll, the grass pops back up and all is well. But let's say it's a repeated experience like being picked up when we cry, or a smiling face talking baby talk to us, or emptiness when our cries are ignored. We travel that scenario more than once and we create a path. By the time we are adults we have a "park" that looks like a map of mega-sized city streets. 

The main streets and super highways represent the thought paths we most travel. 

Everything we experience through our senses and every thought we have creates the potential for a street, avenue or highway. 

The good news is that we can change our maps by the beauty of neuroplasticity. (Our brains keep regenerating and making new pathways). We can create new roads and change the way we travel and avoid the roads we no longer want to drive the car of our life on. 

I can create a new series of main streets I want to travel on. Repetition makes the roads we use stronger. 

For example. I've been telling myself I don't get violin. Oh, I'm still working on it. But every time I say that I don't have rhythm and I can't do the fingering, the reading of music and the timing of the notes at the same time I am telling my brain to make that a truth, a pathway for me to travel on. Therefore, my brain makes it so that I don't get it because I'm telling it that that's a truth, that I don't get it. I'm basically ordering my brain to make sure I don't get it. Really???? Augh!!!! This totally resonates with me because I do travel "I don't get this" boulevard. I want to get it, I get so frustrated, and I'm doing the time. I don't want to calculate how much energy and money I've put into this goal because that's going to depress me. All the while I'm plugging away, I'm telling my brain to avoid turning on the musical/math section of my gray matter. 

My mom told me she saw a video about a guy who took a decent blow to the head and got a concussion. A few days later he was at a friend's house and they had a piano and he sat down and played for hours. Not Chopsticks, but real, complex music. And he wasn't musical before his accident. If a whack in the head can turn on his music center then I'm not going to tell my brain to keep my music center quiet. "Hey, Kelly's brain, yeah you, ramp up the math/music section of my brain. I have some music I want to play. Got it?!? Good." 

My brain is moldable and is making new pathways all the time. And I can and will get this. My brain is going to click and this reading of music, timing of notes and finger placement is going to become second nature and I will be a musician and I will play the violin so well that I can play with other musicians.  

How about you? What are you telling yourself you can't do? Can't or won't? Quit ordering your brain to keep you stuck. 

Serials and Scenarios….Meet Fifi and Oh, Listen to the Music...

First day of NaNoWriMo. I didn't post anything yesterday because it was one of those days. Meeting myself coming and going. Have I mentioned anything exciting about violin lately? Oh, yeah, because NOTHING exciting is happening. I think I've entered the place where I just have to keep trudging until I get it. 

Eleven months after starting I know the main notes….know is used somewhat tongue in cheek because I "know" them but I don't. A fraction of an inch gives a completely wrong tone, and when my fingers are on all the strings flying this was and that and I can't really look at my fingers because then I get really screwed up, I'm playing by the seat-of-my-pants. Yesterday I got the lecture about enjoying the journey and how I shouldn't really give myself a goal that will tell me I've arrived. I am a violinist. I play the violin. And no matter how much I play or how much I practice, the chances are I am never going to nail, perfect or stand on a stage and have flowers thrown at me. If I do, then that's great, but the flowers aren't going to happen each and every time so then what? If I look at it as making art, making the world a more beautiful place just because I'm adding my voice in music to the world, whether I'm playing just for me or for others, then I'm going to feel more successful. 

I am a violinist. I make art. I make beauty. I am what I am. 

I'm also a writer. I create word pictures. 

Here's word picture for you. Michelle, the crazy counterpart of mine has chosen two pictures to represent Fifi, the wonder dog, from our novel, Out of the Frying Pan. 

She asked her readers to pick the picture that best represents Fifi. I should do the same. 

Here's the description (which I wrote, sigh, lovely picture is it not?) and the photos. Chime in with your thoughts. Maybe by the time the book is published I'll have created an artistic violin score. 


"We now have a dog Zula insists is “adorable.” Not a puppy, mind you, but a decrepit rat terrier who has to be lifted in order for it to fulfill its purpose in life — sitting on laps and yapping. Though other body parts fail, its barker is in perfect working order.

Fifi moved in three days ago when poor Randolph Johnson checked into Shady Rest. . . the nursing home, not to be confused with the cemetery of that same name three miles further south.

Zula walks the silly thing around the block with great drama but has to stop every few feet to let the rodent-on-a-leash catch its breath. It’s the most ridiculous sight here at Sunset Paradise. She’s sewn several doggy garments for their outings — which would look a lot less ridiculous without the bedazzling, but at least they hide the bald patches."

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Tiger Eye Focus Part 3

Tiger Eye Focus. How does that look with the violin?

Clearly, I'm not going to be running stairs and punching sides of beef.

For violin it will involve wanting.

Do I want to be able to play? If so, am I willing to play well and by the book?  After investing what I have so far, and with the goal of actually being able to play it, I'd be an idiot to say no. So by the book it is.

I think one of my issues might be that I tend to be more creative than mathematical in thinking.  I'm used to looking at an imperfect situation like a recipe fail or decorating issue and coming up with a way to fix or make it work. Relationships are fluid as well. Black and white math is not a strong area for me.

Music is spot on math. There is a formula and exacting timing and detail.  So. I need to stretch and work on this. It reminds me of when I had to take my algebra section of training for radiography and I had to borrow my then 8th grader's book to try to wrap my mind around it. So. I've done it before and I'll be doing it again. Math for the challenged.

Also. There is a huge element of risk in this journey. I'm not going to get the soup and cookies knocked out of me like poor Rocky. But, I have to put myself out there. My insecurities, my heart, a little bit of my soul, every week when I go to my lesson and every day when I practice. I have to reword the inner monologue and avoid beating myself up. When I'm ready to play in front of people, it's going to be even riskier. 

And. There is the cost of time and focus and attention. This violin thing costs money for lessons and broken strings and new books and gas to get there. But the time element is pretty huge and it comes out of the time that is precious to me. I have to give time to the have to things, non-negotiable, but what is not carved out of my life by others is me time. As one who leans towards being introverted, there is an extra amount of anxiety with this violin thing. When I'm practicing and going to lessons those are hours and minutes I don't get back. Am I willing to keep investing those hours and minutes and absorbing the cost? And if I do, why wouldn't I make the most of my valuable time and do it right? 

This is something that just came to me. I always thought of myself as a little flaky, a little bit of a quitter. I'm not saying that I haven't quit a few things in my day. But, overall I have this impression of myself that I flit from thing to thing and give up far too easily. I'm wondering why I have that impression. I am looking back at my track record and I see where I have whole-heartedly devoted myself to people and relationships and jobs and extras. And I see where some have gone through seasons, others have not been a good fit, others were not worth pursuing. But. The things I've dug into and given myself to are alive and flourishing. And I'm not a quitter. Far from it. 

Quitting is not an option. So therefore, I will give violin the time, energy and focus I need to in order to conquer the current set of problems I have with it. I can do this. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Eye of the Tiger Part 2

My violin "lesson" of the week focused on developing a tiger's eye. I'm at the point when I need to make a level of commitment higher than what I've already made. It's not about paying the money for the lessons. It's not about practicing and learning. After my Thursday playing-through-the-song performance my teacher gave me three ways to look at what was missing from my musical repertoire. 

Lesson One) teeny, tiny details make a huge difference. If I am putting my fingers down just to put my fingers down, then I'm not making music. If I can't put my fingers exactly where I need to put them the exact time they need to go there with the exact called for bow stroke, then I'm making noise, not music. 

My teacher was kind. And explained that he has to look for both growth, which he sees, and the errors that need to be nipped in the bud and removed so they don't flower into something stinky. And speaking of stinky...

Two) is the second illustration, the dirty diaper. He said babies don't understand the implication of a dirty diaper. And adults really don't change dirty diapers because it's fun, they do it for the best interest of the baby.  Which takes us to the third illustration which is totally related but unrelated. 

Three) Developing the eye of the tiger... Rocky-style. Rocky spent hours and hours running up and down steps to get in shape. He spent hours conditioning himself by beating on slabs of beef in a meat locker. He prepared mentally and let's not forget the musical score.  

I need to develop the same drive and focus with my violin, committing to learning how to play this instrument like I wish I could play it, and how I should play it. So it's music, not mish-mash sloppy. So. To the Tiger-Eyed focus I go. But what does that look like? Definitely not running up stairs with my violin held up high over my head. I hope. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Tiger Eye Focus

My goal for Thursday's violin lesson was to just get through one of my songs. 

I hadn't pulled that off yet, well, a real song, Two lines and eight measures doesn't count. During my lesson my teacher consistently says things like "just keep going." "Don't stop." as I'm squealing through my song bits.

So, I did just keep going and didn't stop even when I made a few mistakes. (read: a lot of mistakes). I was pretty proud of the fact that I hadn't stopped. I knew my fingering was off several times and my tempo was not as written. The parts that were easier I played at the 1/8 note tempo. The parts that were trickier were maybe more like staccato 1/4 or 1/2 notes. (That means SLOW with unwritten and unexpected pauses.)

Then. After I was done he told me that I had improved since the week before. 


But. 

There are always buts in violin. I think that's because there are a million things to mess up on. It might be bowing wherein a fraction too far one direction means I play two squeaky strings, a fraction too far the other direction and I play two other squeaky strings. If I really mess up, I play three squeaky strings. Holding the neck of the violin and bow are uber important. Reading the notes and playing them in the proper rhythm is tricky, for me anyway, and uber important. Practicing properly is important. Knowing the different techniques that give different sounds is important. And then there is something else that is even more important. And. I think you need to come back tomorrow for the rest of that story. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ A Little Step Forward..

Around Thanksgiving I began my violin journey. 

I remembered precious little from my short violin career nearly four decades ago. I knew there was a bow, that the strings had names, as did the little dots on the page. I remembered the combination of fingers on the strings and sliding the bow across the strings made sounds. Some not so pleasant, some amazing depending on who played them. 

In February, when I barely knew a dozen notes and couldn't count to four and play at the same time, and couldn't recognize anything I was playing beyond the occasional kid song, I went to my teacher's concert. 

They played William Tell Overture and I was amazed. So fast, so crisp, so entertaining. And as I watched their fingers fly I thought I'd never be able to play that song. 

Rusty. Rough. Squeaky and HARD... here is what I've been working on. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Squeak Update....

I've now been taught the four strings of my violin and finger placements for a total of 16 notes. 

I "know" how to slur, tie, and create a staccato effect (actually this was pretty easy for me because that's how I played until he drove the constant bow concept into my brain. Staccato is a teeny pause between each note. Since I instinctively staccato through life, my teacher was able to gloss over this technique..."play like you did before I told you to STOP stopping between notes" 

This hornpipe hornswoggle of a piece was something he tossed down with a flourish and a snarky smile. "Work on this this week." My heart threw some palpitations. For starters it's a half page of music with a repeat every two lines. And secondly, the brand new notes are mixed in. He even had me play it (attempt - NOT PRETTY) within seconds of giving it to me. I kept getting lost and finally told him that the little black dots were confusing me. (He pretended to be unamused. I so love my teacher's personality!) He also gave me some life advice. I kind of whined (imagine that) that when I had to play for him, it kinda harshed my mellow. He asked me where I'd heard that phrase and I told him it was from a show I watched and that I wanted to use it frequently for amusement purposes. He suggested I be careful where I used it so people didn't think I was a stoner. Word!