Tuesday. Up at six, obeying the alarm, to breakfast and the papers, back now before eight under an overcast sky. Sounds familiar. As with yesterday and many recent days I've sat here thinking, well, I do indeed feel pretty good only to find things deteriorating as the morning progressed. Let's see how this day unfolds. For the moment, at least, I'm up, sharp, hoppin’ and boppin’, ready for this morning's overcast to evaporate.
Oh, and I'm waiting for my music stand to arrive. I ordered a music stand, the last piece in what I was starting to fear was a never ending array of support supplies and equipment necessary to feed this guitar. If you saw how I've been balancing my sheet music here and there on chairs as I've been practicing, you'd wonder why it was the last on the list. Well, maybe you wouldn't. I suspect there are more than one or two guitar players out there who've managed to make it without a music stand. Or boring you with a never ending litany describing their process.
Later. Things seem to be holding together. The usual bus trip downtown, a cup of coffee in the City Center sitting out at a table and a walk back to the apartment, a picture or two whether they made any sense or not. Sometimes you see something and think, well, that's boring as hell, but then you take the picture. Maybe it is as boring as hell, but then again, what is it that caught your attention? If I were serious about photography I'd pursue this particular line of thought, but I suspect I'm not and I'll pass on by without any upset. Life should not be upsetting.
How do you expect to accomplish anything in life without taking at least something seriously?
At my age you're given leeway.
Later still. The laundry is well underway, a clear sign the attitude and ambition are better. Shame to waste it on doing the laundry, I suppose, but no complaints. The sun came out earlier about the time I returned to the apartment, so the day outside is fine. I think another walk down the way in order, over to the bagel shop maybe and have something from the list of foods I'm warned to avoid.
Later again. In looking at the FedEx web site I see my music stand is due to arrive tomorrow. I can live with that. The laundry is folded, hung and stored and I've spent quite a bit of time playing three songs from my beginner's book over and over. Badly. I read music when I once played the piano and then moved on to the clarinet, so it's not something I've not done before, but memorizing the fingering on the frets with the notes takes time and repetition.
And so today, for whatever reason, I fell down on my face, had more trouble with those songs than I've had in the recent past, but that's probably the way it goes. You practice one day, you practice the next day and after you've done it long enough you notice some progress. So I'll pick away again at them later this evening. I was sounding really funky, but it was also fun. I wish I'd had this attitude when I was playing (playing at playing) the clarinet. And the piano.
Your parents would have liked it too.
My mother's side of the family all sang or played an instrument. Lots of piano players among them including my mother. At least two violinists. My sister and two cousins carry on for my uncle as singers. With me it's been duck and run.
Is that the motivation for learning the guitar?
No, no. I'm just looking around for things to keep me occupied and for some reason, out of the blue, I picked up a guitar. Better a wah-wah pedal than a fascination with whiskey is my rationalization.
Or sake, come to think of it.