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.