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.