Goals.

Short terms goals: having the first primary up and down the neck 4 times each (twice 1-2-3-4 and twice 4-3-2-1) at 120 bpm by Christmas.

Also, playing cello suite 2 prelude within next month.

Long term goals: Full suite in 3-4 months. Two original circle pieces by end of summer.

10/02-04/2010 - Triad 1

I suspect that nothing that I write with regards to this subject will be particularly new, and maybe not even that interesting. But in keeping with the personal challenge. . . .

============

Something that occurred to me, today, was to look at the triad in a couple of different ways. I do not profess to be a master of JGB's Systematics, so humbly acknowledge any inaccuracies and shortcomings. Fittingly, if there is something that I've missed, please let me know.

To begin, we'll go over certain terms to set the groundwork. A triad is a three-termed system in and of itself; it works as a model of describing and defining some set of circumstances. Fittingly, there are other systems, each illustrated by its own number of terms*, and each having its particular focus and use. For instance, the monad is a single-termed system, and would be used to illustrate universality or wholeness (more of a point of highest intensity, and gradually fading in intensity**, but that's a conversation for another day!). The tetrad is a four-termed system, styled like a compass, that is used to "give structured activity and combines relativity and order. . . .***"

More directly related to the triad, and germane to this discussion, would be the dyad, or a two-termed system. This is probably most easily visually illustrated as one term on the left, and one term on the right. In a word, complementarity. One can look at this as a simple yin/yang demonstration, or in/out, black/white, salty/sweet, or other dualities. This system can help to clarify a situation, but can also be quite limiting, as it is looking at two extremes only, and not at what lay between, or at an outside influence.

Moving outward from the dyad, we can look at the triad. A simple description of the triad refers to "relatedness without relativity and hence dynamism as distinct from force.***" So, instead of two elements only, one can include a third element, one that moves from a "this or that" to "this and that by way of those". Another way to describe this would be "Subject A and Subject B are related, and share Subject C as common ground." Visually, this would look as such:

Subject C
/........\
/...........\
/..............\
Subject A-----Subject B

Obviously, we can substitute anything we want into each subject's slot, whether it is useful or not. For fun, we could try something as simple as "Spoon - Mug - Cider".

Mug
/.....\
/........\
Spoon----Cider

Though this is certainly a little silly, it's a good example: The spoon stirs the cider within the mug; the mug holds the cider that the spoon is stirring; the cider acts as a substance to be stirred by the spoon within the mug; the spoon stirs in the mug that holds the cider; the cider whirls in the mug because of the spoon; and the mug holds the spoon stirring the cider.

Why all the attention to order and sentence structure? Each element takes turns becoming the center of focus, which allows one to observe a situation from each possible angle. Though it is true that the spoon is stirring in each version of the story, one's perception of the spoon changes with each permutation. For instance, "The spoon stirs the cider within the mug," and "The spoon stirs in the mug that holds the cider." In the first version, the spoon is actively interacting with the cider, while the mug holds the two--in a sense, it becomes the active element to the passive element of the cider and the reconciling element of the mug. In the second version, the spoon is actively interacting with the mug, while the cider is almost an afterthought--the spoon is now the active element to the passive/receptive element of the mug, with the cider being a sort of reconciling/neutral element. Were one to put this element in a dramatic scene, for instance, the first version would give us the idea that the character stirring the drink is at least interested in the cider--whereas the second version implies that the character wishes to have a hot drink, which happens to be cider.

More tomorrow!

*The monad, dyad, triad, tetrad, pentad, hextad, heptad, octad, ennead, decad, undecad, and duodecad are all systems that JGB worked with.

**Anthony Blake.

***Directly from the Systematics.org website.

10-01-2010

The other night, Elan S. was reading from JG Bennett's Making a Soul, and had stopped to take a look at how much longer the selection went on. As he did this, he mentioned a passage that spoke about "potential energy", but did not read it, and advised everyone to purchase the book.

Not having a chance to actually get the book yet, I'm left to wonder what it may have been about (I know it was in chapter 2!), but the concept of potential energy resonates with the uneasiness I've been feeling, lately. And, perhaps uneasiness is the wrong word--restlessness may be more appropriate, and would certainly fit more with the theme of the new phase I wrote about yesterday.

I suppose that, in a sense, I am constantly looking for another piece to a puzzle that continually grows more complex as I slot pieces in (almost like Tetris, but not quite). To further complicate the metaphor, it seems as though each puzzle piece is part of a window. In either case (puzzle or window), I know that I should be taking a moment to appreciate the picture as it is in this moment. This is difficult, though: if a piece that is currently in play is able to slot in, then a few more opportunities may open up. So, I continue to poke away towards the next good fit.

==============

"Man is a three-brained being."

Tomorrow I'll work with this.

09-30-2010

Last night--which also happened to be this morning--I mentioned how I feel like I may be entering a new phase of my life. The actual phrasing of this only came to me yesterday in idle conversation, but this has been almost a sort of theme for the past couple of months.

In all honesty, I don't think I could have put my finger on it, before this. Something has been in the air, whether it was my romantic situation, or the changing of the music in my life, or the shift with the day job, or the shift in my inner work*. Beginning to attend regular Gurdjieff/Bennett meetings with the local group that is directed by George B. and Elan S. certainly influenced that, I am sure--this especially in light of the fact that if I hadn't, I am not sure that I would have seen the "moment" of asking Tessa to come up to Boston as a "moment" of sorts**.

All this said, I do happen to see this all as a phase that is just beginning. At this point, the question that we were asked to consider--"What is my aim? How can my aim be brought to bear in this moment?"--seems like an incredibly important one to ask, right now. The difficulty of this is that, despite the seeming newness of this phase/stage, clarifying an aim into a single point or task seems very hard. We were told that this could be a big or small aim, and that small aims could be related to big aims. Fittingly, a small aim could easily lead to a big aim, so it could be that this small aim of writing each day for half an hour for the next four days (which should be a full week for myself, in all honesty) will lead to something bigger.

But I think that this is more likely an exercise in focus (granted, focus on something that I have been neglecting for months), only distantly related to what the real (big) aim seems to be: to serve music as best I can. This is such a lofty and insubstantial goal that it almost seems useless to write that out, but there are so many things that go in to filling this aim that are achievable--necessary and faithful practicing, learning musical pieces, working on my time, footwork towards securing a venue for the weekly performance challenge, this writing project, writing and arranging music, preparing myself for the Talking Heads show at the end of the month--that giving a cop-out answer like "serving music as best I can" seems like a truly viable answer.

Well, enough. I've written a fair amount today, and I still have at least three more days to continue this!

*I am loathe to use this term, but it seems to be the most honest one. But then, maybe that's why I don't prefer that term.

**Apologies for that sentence.

For the next 4 days. . .

I'll be taking time off work, primarily for a personal break. I have some necessary work to do, though, so I'll be committing to writing each morning both text/prose and music, for at least 1/2 hour for each. It struck me that I am very likely at the beginning of the next major phase. . . .

From an e-mail discussion with the circle. . . .

A little late to the party, though I've been thinking about this since it first came up. A couple of thoughts about the pentad and different selves as described in jgb's 'spiritual psychology'. It seems like points 1, 2, 4, and 5 could sort of line up with the first 4 selves as described in 'spiritual', with ipseity sitting on the outside as an influence, or:

Point 5 | Outer World of Value | True Self
Point 4 | Inner World of Value | Divided Self
Point 3 | Ipseity
Point 2 | Inner World of Fact | Reactive Self
Point 1 | Outer World of Fact | Material Self

Not sure how accurate this is, but it seems to match up, and makes more sense as I think about it. Plus, it seems to put ipseity in a good spot, which leads me to the next thing. . .

I have two meanings of ipseity that I am working with. The first is that which you gave us, V: "ourselves, as we are in spontaneity." The other is the more literal definition: "individual self, or individuality." The vertical quality of the pentad, in the diagram, and the thought of ipseity cutting across the middle, put me in mind of pairs in time (1 & 5 and 2 & 4). Perhaps one could see these as constantly progressing moments in time, and ipseity as a non-affected influence as such? Or is my logic fuzzy?

-- ** -- ** --

have a difficult time seeing point 5 as something that is already there, or that we are already at. I may be misreading your description, granted, but it seems as though you're describing it as "the end result of my work, no matter what work has been undertaken and completed". For me, I see it more as something that might not arise without proper work: i.e., the circle plays a gig that turns out to be a real stinker--something may be manifested, and it may indeed be a real representation of where we are at as a group, but it is not an outward manifestation of the higher world of values. Back to a modified table for a moment:

Point 5 | Master | True Self
Point 4 | Higher Nature | Divided Self
Point 3 | Ipseity
Point 2 | Lower Nature | Reactive Self
Point 1 | Nourishment | Material Self

The middle names are the same ones that JGB uses to describe the points. Playing a true stonker of a gig might be an opportunity for point 5 to become manifest, I suppose, if, despite an onset of ineptitude, we are still able to hold a measure of togetherness and selfness (or, a non-fragmented nature). Sort of like watching a group that is completely falling apart on stage and unable to finish a piece of music as written, but still able to somehow make music. That it would happen like that is unlikely, but possible.

This feeds into the whole spontaneity thing, I think. Your friend's (student's?) inability to be spontaneous, to me, points to an inability to move functionally beyond point 1 (a potentially encyclopaedic knowledge of "these things that I can do" that he doesn't move outside of), and an unawareness of point 2 and beyond. That group on stage falling apart would be nothing more than that if it couldn't acknowledge that "this isn't working" and that "maybe let's try this". (T's description to me of RF's approach to the completion course seems to illustrate that ability.) Being unable to acknowledge and be open to spontaneity, in other words, forces a curving back to point 1, without realizing the curve. At least, so it seems to me.

At the meeting tonight for the local g/b group meeting, I asked a question that I thought was connected to the topic. The minute it left my mouth, I realized just how completely off-topic I was. Instant regret. To his credit, E. S. was very gracious, remarking that I was talking about a different subject, and how words can be quite misleading.

He also noted that what I was referring to was actually related to what the next area of discussion would be. Still wrong, but in a related vein. I also remember asking a question of RF at my beginner's course that was generally not quite related to the topic, but inadvertently gave him a springboard to begin presenting the performance challenge to the group. Either that, or he was already going to proceed to it, in the next moment. If that was the case, he tied the two disparate topics together quite well.

Bleh. Well, there's always next week.

well, yeah, what i really meant was. . .

as a short update, while i'm working on the other one i'm writing. . . .

i've lately been finding myself in the position* of trying to explain what the guitar circle work is. the difficulty is, for me, not in trying to put it into words, but to put it into words that convey the right meaning, without bloviating. there is an additional challenge, in that i want to present an explanation that will give an idea of just how expansive the work is, but still sound credible.

as an aside, there is a group that is meeting out here, led by Elan S. I attended my first meeting last night.

*okay, i'll admit, i've been putting myself in this position a lot.

A timeline.

• 1984: Born. My apologies, ahead of time.
• 1986 (probably): First real musical memory, by hearing Aerosmith on TV.
• 1989: Start kindergarten. Parents split up, so my mother, my sister, and I all move from Seattle/Bremerton, WA to Lewistown, MT. Hear Stravinsky's Rite of Spring during the Christmas season, and am absolutely terrified (thanks to Disney's depiction of Prehistoria). We are living with my grandparents at the time; Grandma is still teaching piano, at this time.
• 1994: Start fifth grade. Instead of saxophone, like I wanted to play, I am made to play trumpet, because I can use my uncle's trumpet for free. I am unaware, for a very long time, just how difficult money can be for my family.
• 1995: Sixth grade. Hate the trumpet. Want to become a writer. Read voraciously. My parents force me to practice. Hear the Beatles for the first time.
• 1996: Seventh grade. During chair auditions in band, I am moved from second to last chair to third chair (out of fourteen). This is when it clicks for me, and I suddenly realize that I want to teach music. Listen to the Beatles all the time, and am really captured by the "Blue" greatest hits collection (1967-70), as well as Rubber Soul.
• 1997: Eighth grade. Madly in love with Mary, who is first chair trumpet (and quite pretty, to boot), while I am stuck in 2nd. Hear Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin's IV for the fist time. My parents throw out the Jimi Hendrix tape, as they don't want me listening to "that hard rock music". I find other sources. Hear Tool's Aenima for the first time.
• 1998: Am told by Chuck Garnaas, our teacher/director, that I am playing at least as well as a high school player. When I move on to high school, Richard Garcia finally puts me in first chair for the freshman band. A regrettable period in which I am listening to Korn and Limp Bizkit, though I also start listening to Rage Against The Machine, and start playing air guitar in my room.
• 1999-2000: A dark year. Probably one of the most unhappy school years I had. I was not a fun person to be around. Fittingly, I get more and more into Tool. It's probably around this time that I hear Miles Davis' Kind of Blue for the first time.
• 2000-2001: A much better time. Begin to figure myself out, and start learning a bit of guitar during the All-State music festival. For Christmas, I receive my first electric, a Rogue ST-4 (the bridge and neck plate of which are still in my Frankenstrat). Music has taken a very central role in my life. Also, my parents finally relent and let me grow my hair out; victory is mine when my mom looks at me and remarks that I look good with long hair. Get my appendix, which prevents me from attending the next year's All State festival. Hear electric Miles this summer, and get my first experience of playing with a rock band (on trumpet), for a short period of time.
• 2001-2002: Senior year. Like every high-schooler, I am afflicted with senioritis, which thankfully does not extend to the trumpet or guitar. Don't actually think about where I will go to school, until my band director asks me where I've applied. I only apply to Northwest College in Wyoming, and get in with a reasonable scholarship. Attend the Northwest Jazz Camp, that summer, and experience what it's like to be around musicians that are miles ahead of where I am, but also am able to take the relative humiliation and understand what years and years of work can achieve.
• 2002-2004: Two years of school at Northwest. My teachers all have a great deal of influence on me--my trumpet teacher, especially. My guitar teacher (who I don't really practice much for, but I try) helps me learn all the classic rock stuff I'm into, especially Pink Floyd. Has me learn a Robin Trower song, and also tries to teach me a King Crimson song, 21st Century Schizoid Man. I don't like this song, all that much, but a search on Limewire yields a song that seems pretty cool to me: Discipline.
• Eventually, I decide to go to school at CWU, in Ellensburg, WA. This doesn't pan out, due to a number of different factors. In the meantime, I spend the summer of 2004 working in Yellowstone National Park, where I meet Rachel. We fall in Love, and I visit the Northeast for the first time. On stepping out of the car, when we take a trip up to Boston, I instantly know where I'll be living, the following year.
• 2004-2005: I spend a school year living at home and working for the local radio station, using it as a practice studio when I can. I intend to go to Berklee, and get a nice scholarship to be able to do so. Rachel and I break up (not amicably in the least), but I still move to Boston for multiple reasons, in May of 2005.
• 2005: I first work for an environmental canvassing group, and when that ends up not working out, I get a job as a door greeter at a local guitar store: Daddy's Junky Music. Berklee does not happen. Run out of money, and move to Cambridge, MA. A very lonely Christmas, and my trumpet playing is slowing down, since there is little reason for me to do so.
• 2006: Move to sales at Daddy's. In the middle of a sale, a customer asks me what I play, and I answer, "I'm a guitarist," and then realize what identity shift has just occurred. One of my co-workers re-introduces Bill Frisell to me, and I start to relearn bits of jazz theory, but mostly concentrate on guitar.
• 2007: In the early part of the year, that same co-worker plays a Soundscapes album in the store. Totally doesn't work, for the store, but it's beautiful, and I ask to borrow it for the night. Love Cannot Bear is still one of my favorite albums. In April, I buy my first looper pedal. Later that year, I purchase my first good quality acoustic guitar, a Taylor 214. In November, I go to see RF and the League of Crafty Guitarists. In a telling moment, the most fascinating moment of what is already a strong show is the final encore, in which they unplug. I don't remember the piece they play.
• 2008: Turmoil. I buy a Gibson SG '61 reissue, and now have my first really great quality guitar, and it happens to be electric. My use of effects is expanding, and I am getting into some pretty out there music. During the summer, I purchase and hear Music for 18 Musicians, for the first time, and go on a complete minimalist trip, along with listening to the LoCG. I am looking for something, and I don't really know what it is.
• 2009: March 24th marks my first lesson with Victor, with regards to New Standard Tuning.
• 2010: I'm still on that trip.

So, what to do when one experiences relatively intense physical discomfort while sitting/cycling?

A dream from last night

The guitar circle is on some sort of tour. We're going to be playing for an audience with Ben Bennett, tonight. The venue is sort of a garage, with two rooms. A little distracted. The performance room is weird. It's like a dugout, with several sort of fjords or raised spots that we'll be sitting on.

I am running a little behind. Supposedly, one of the audience members is in bad shape, with a debilitating disease that has left her body locked into a rough house-like shape (like the roof of a house). I believe that this is Elizabeth Bennett. Victor is a little upset with me, because I am lagging. Then I wake up.

A short note on this work.

it's kind of like building a house. what we were doing was sort of like building a framework for a house--maybe even sheetrocking the walls. there was a specific name for it: guitar craft.

if one was helping to build a house, one might be asked what he does. odds are, he won't say, "i'm a house builder." more likely that he'll say, "i'm a carpet layer," or "i'm an electrician." he may, in fact, wear multiple hats, but rarely at the same time. it's all part of a larger work, which is the house.

that which was guitar craft is basically the same idea. one could say that the foundation was j.g. bennett's work, which had a very firm and powerful bed in the gurdjieff work. both are inordinately important and necessary. rf's, and by extension, the circle community's, work is a sort of superstructure which is made possible by that initial infrastructure. or, as rf has put it, a physical manifestation of the bennett line of the gurdjieff work. This is probably an inadequate and inaccurate analogy, but it paints the picture.

guitar craft has ceased to exist, but i also see it as a building that has been established. you can't continue to build a building that is built--that is, you can't build your bedroom endlessly. there is a point at which it is done, and you now have to make it a home. this may mean rediscovering the building you've lived in your entire life.

My observation from the AAD course: that in my work on the course, I became aware of how little attention I pay to the process, and the shift in quality that comes when I do pay in.

A personal note: perhaps it's time to try something more public, in addition to bringing the circle into performance. An open circle, in the style of the Seattle circle? Would they mind? I'm sure the gcne would support this. . . . I think there's potential to tap, here in Boston.

Last night: an intuition that, as successful as the gig at Thacher Montessori was, it wasn't quite the powerful experience that it had the possibility of being. Not an unworthy undertaking, mind you, and certainly a good affirmation of ability, with some good moments in the show*. Still, though, I feel like we got close, but weren't able to quite get there.

I imagine that this was in large part due to the noise factor: as fun as it is, playing for children, it was loud, and really difficult to hold their attention. When we did play, most were able to focus, but the minute that sound stopped coming out of the guitars, the kids generally began to go nuts, again. This can't be helped, I suppose, seeing as they are kids, and simply act without the baggage that adults develop later on--not a bad thing by any means. I am looking forward, now, to playing in front of an attentive audience.

All this said, I have to reaffirm that I did have fun. It was a fun gig! The kids loved us. But now I am eager to find out what can really happen in a performance.


*Thrak and the improv/Asturias were personal high marks, though having Opening coming out so well was pleasing, as well.

At the end of the circle meeting, the other night, we played Calliope. I play lead on this, and Victor is playing mirrors. At one moment, I felt like I was playing the mirrors coming out of Victor's guitar. Interesting.

I had a woman comment, tonight, that I was too hard on myself, and that I shouldn't let negativity be the first thing out of my mouth--all while I'm putting a strap on her new guitar.

I liked that woman.

A couple of days ago, I felt really hopeless. It was a real case of "What in God's name am I doing with myself? I am absolutely not getting it."

I am still currently reading In Search of the Miraculous. The book is probably influencing this to some extent, but the feeling is still there, even though I can intellectualize why it might be there. I can also intellectualize the possibility that this might be a step in the right direction, but I have no idea about this.

A call home, and then to real practicing.