It is pretty amazing as I looked back at my life in church. Being raised up in a traditional setting of a Presbyterian church, then moving on to the day when my cousin brought me to a rather different church. The very first day I attended his church was nothing short of an in-your-face miracle. I was 13 then.
I consider myself blessed and very fortunate to be in the group I am in now. It wasn't the same in the past, when I was mixing with people who do not understand the circumstances surrounding me. We were all innocent and ignorant of so many things going on. We did what we thought and knew was right, but our eyes still weren't fully opened. It came with age and experience. As I grew up and looked back, it amazes me at how God has worked in my life over the years. I've always thought I could only have friends who are musicians, or at least understand what music is all about. It seemed to me that musicians can only fully relate their thinking and be understood by a fellow musician. I looked at my family and can't help drawing the link to that fact. All the musicians in my family married another musician, or somebody who works in the music scene. A couple in my current group consists of a trombonist and flautist.
Maybe there's a need to be understood. Maybe it's easier to relate to somebody who is in the same field of work as you. (What about lawyers?) Maybe it's the fact that your other half has to understand why you have to spend 3 hours alone in a room tearing your heart out with your other other half? Maybe it's so that he/she can understand why you can't go out on a date because you need to practice. (But seriously, get a life.)
This disconnection with the rest of the world (non-musicians) was detrimental to my social and spiritual well-being in church for a couple of years. Until I attended this group. It is... different. I figured, the problem might have been me all along.
But that's a another story for another day.
Taking a day off from practicing last Friday was probably the best decision I made in the past week. Practicing til the cows come home was taking its toll on my hands and sanity. I figured, if it's not getting better by practicing a whole lot more, might as well take a step back and think things through. I got back on Saturday and the feeling was great. My thumb doesn't hurt anymore, I was relaxed, and the sense of positivity was back. Maybe the fact that I was back home helped a bit. Spending 3 nights out of 4 in camp is depressing. Going out for dinner once in a while is a good change of pace, but otherwise, it's boring. So, if things are looking grim during practice, and you feel that things are not improving the harder you try, take a deep breath and a step back, because a break might be all you need. (No, kit-kat is not endorsing this.)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Peace?
Fishing.
It is amazing how three men in civil defence uniforms could spend one hour in the regimental cookhouse talking about it. It's a wonder how much we can relate to it.
Having to cancel tomorrow's lesson with my teacher was.. disheartening. Having not improved to the extent I wished I have is not something I can live with. It seems that I always reach the LDMR (Law of Diminishing Marginal Returns) too soon for my practice sessions, and my down time after each practice session seems to be longer than what I deem healthy. Teacher has always emphasized on the importance of practicing intelligently. It must be due to my impatience when it comes down to solving problems. It must be something in the deep recesses of my sub-consciousness which leads me to think that there is always not enough time at the rate I do things. This isn't unjustified though. My days in this little island are numbered. At least if everything falls into plan.
I have been spending more time than usual praying and seeking about current events. With the progress I am making on my instrument, I can only trust in God at this point. There isn't much else I can do but my best, and leaving the rest to Him.
It is amazing how three men in civil defence uniforms could spend one hour in the regimental cookhouse talking about it. It's a wonder how much we can relate to it.
Having to cancel tomorrow's lesson with my teacher was.. disheartening. Having not improved to the extent I wished I have is not something I can live with. It seems that I always reach the LDMR (Law of Diminishing Marginal Returns) too soon for my practice sessions, and my down time after each practice session seems to be longer than what I deem healthy. Teacher has always emphasized on the importance of practicing intelligently. It must be due to my impatience when it comes down to solving problems. It must be something in the deep recesses of my sub-consciousness which leads me to think that there is always not enough time at the rate I do things. This isn't unjustified though. My days in this little island are numbered. At least if everything falls into plan.
I have been spending more time than usual praying and seeking about current events. With the progress I am making on my instrument, I can only trust in God at this point. There isn't much else I can do but my best, and leaving the rest to Him.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Hello
pandas are lethal. They tempt you with their cute biscuit prints with a chocolatey center. As you swallow the deceptively harmless creatures, they attack you from the inside, going straight to your hips and thighs, refusing to relent to your efforts of flushing them out with regular exercise and healthy diet.
Music.
Where do I begin?
How would you define it? A combination of sounds, rhythms and silences? A plethora of vibrations set into a stream of systematic motion? As a noun described as 'an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm, melody, harmony, and colour' in dictionary.com? Or something that just sounds good? It's funny when you think about it. Because if that's the case, you can't really draw the fine line between music and noise. Noise, if you think hard enough, could also be defined the same way. Like Berlioz's critics first thought when he wrote his Symphonie Fantastique. Like an amateur cellist who couldn't play Haydn's concerto in C in tune.
It really isn't about playing the right notes in tune with impeccable technique or singing out a phrase with a profound sense of musicality. True music is done inside the heart of the performer. When the audience see where you are going at. When they have understood your intentions enough. Can music be called music if the performer's heart laid bare before the world turns out to be as black as a rotting concoction of human waste and cow's manure? It doesn't matter if the acoustic of the hall is horrible, or that your scores flew away like the feather in Forrest Gump, because at the end of the day, it is what happens inside that matters, and sometimes, elements of rhythm, melody, harmony and colour just don't cut it. That and of course lots of practice.
Having said that, practice today was.. much less than desirable. My playing seems to be taking the route of being temperamental. It's good on even days, bad on odd days. But if that's really the case, I should be rejoicing since I'm having lesson tomorrow.
Just my two cents before my brain implodes in heavy thoughts tonight.
Music.
Where do I begin?
How would you define it? A combination of sounds, rhythms and silences? A plethora of vibrations set into a stream of systematic motion? As a noun described as 'an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions in significant forms through the elements of rhythm, melody, harmony, and colour' in dictionary.com? Or something that just sounds good? It's funny when you think about it. Because if that's the case, you can't really draw the fine line between music and noise. Noise, if you think hard enough, could also be defined the same way. Like Berlioz's critics first thought when he wrote his Symphonie Fantastique. Like an amateur cellist who couldn't play Haydn's concerto in C in tune.
It really isn't about playing the right notes in tune with impeccable technique or singing out a phrase with a profound sense of musicality. True music is done inside the heart of the performer. When the audience see where you are going at. When they have understood your intentions enough. Can music be called music if the performer's heart laid bare before the world turns out to be as black as a rotting concoction of human waste and cow's manure? It doesn't matter if the acoustic of the hall is horrible, or that your scores flew away like the feather in Forrest Gump, because at the end of the day, it is what happens inside that matters, and sometimes, elements of rhythm, melody, harmony and colour just don't cut it. That and of course lots of practice.
Having said that, practice today was.. much less than desirable. My playing seems to be taking the route of being temperamental. It's good on even days, bad on odd days. But if that's really the case, I should be rejoicing since I'm having lesson tomorrow.
Just my two cents before my brain implodes in heavy thoughts tonight.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Conviction
Who reads these anyway?
Sermon was convicting and despite predictable pointers you might expect from a topic like that, you never fail to learn something new. It's probably God's way of convicting you of your sins and having His word implanted into your heart.
Two more months before becoming a full time citizen. Plans are being made but actions remain stagnant. It's still too early to do anything about it anyway. Procrastination? Hope not. Progress with Desdemona remains conspicuous. Guess I will find out on Thursday. While I'm happy with the overhauling of my vibrato, other techniques are having a relatively bleaker outlook. Intonation forever remains a problem. Thumb position never fails to hurt. Patience runs thin, but that's the only thing we can hold on to at times like these.
Airline hasn't contacted me since, and I don't expect they ever will. Well, no harm trying.
If last night's dream was limbo, I would have almost gladly stayed. It's funny/disturbing how a dream like that can affect you for the next entire day. Depressing, but it happens. A sign? I wish upon a star. It's probably just a rush of emotions and biological compounds all thrown in together into one volatile mix of... delusional thinking?
But then again, who reads these anyway?
Sermon was convicting and despite predictable pointers you might expect from a topic like that, you never fail to learn something new. It's probably God's way of convicting you of your sins and having His word implanted into your heart.
Two more months before becoming a full time citizen. Plans are being made but actions remain stagnant. It's still too early to do anything about it anyway. Procrastination? Hope not. Progress with Desdemona remains conspicuous. Guess I will find out on Thursday. While I'm happy with the overhauling of my vibrato, other techniques are having a relatively bleaker outlook. Intonation forever remains a problem. Thumb position never fails to hurt. Patience runs thin, but that's the only thing we can hold on to at times like these.
Airline hasn't contacted me since, and I don't expect they ever will. Well, no harm trying.
If last night's dream was limbo, I would have almost gladly stayed. It's funny/disturbing how a dream like that can affect you for the next entire day. Depressing, but it happens. A sign? I wish upon a star. It's probably just a rush of emotions and biological compounds all thrown in together into one volatile mix of... delusional thinking?
But then again, who reads these anyway?
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