Inspiration

Sometimes I need a little inspiration. Writing a monthly column proved to be inspiration enough. I never stored commentaries for future publication, though that would have been nice. Instead, I waited for a word to appear before me. Either I heard one or my brain provided me with one. The titles of the articles were that word. In the 18 years of writing, I think only the first title, Wearing Kimono, had more than one word for a name.

 So, now, for some reason this word has eluded me. I am not hearing it maybe because I am not listening. And my brain is not providing me with one. This has not yet caused me distress since my focus has shifted to musical phrases. The shakuhachi, notable for its complexity, keeps ringing through my mind. The rhythm, timing, and phrasing, let alone the production of each pitch, floods my thought processes. 

 

I come late to the production of music. It was/is a goal to learn how to play an instrument, any instrument. At present there is a sax, multiple harmonicas, a violin, two cigar box guitars, and one electric and one acoustic guitar occupying a small space in the living room. I forgot to mention the penny whistles, and a small thumb piano next to the mini keyboard controller. 

 

I haven’t mentioned the shakuhachi. There are approximately six of them. Being lazy this morning I do not feel like getting up to do an accurate inventory. These stem from overly expensive and bamboo to dirt cheap and plastic. They each have their own sound and their limitations. Though, that said, many of their limitations have disappeared the longer I practice. 

 

Notes that were impossible have succumbed to years of practice. Phrasings that petered out mid stream can now be completed in one breath, on a good day at least. Breathe that lead to hyperventilation and dizziness, now, with care, is no longer an impediment. There is a YouTube phenom call Two Set Violin. Their dictum is to practice forty hours per day and I get it. Music is relentless in many of the same ways that medical training is. Neither take any prisoners.

 

The above is a long drawn out excuse to myself for not having the inspiration to write. Who’s kidding who after all? It comes down to motivation and lately the motivating factor appears to be delaying the onset of dementia. Most of us had wacky aunts and uncles or grandparents when we were young, they were easy to write off but no longer. Now those wacky relatives are too close for comfort. With every loss of car keys or  misplaced cellphone, the certainty of a lucid 70’s, 80’s and beyond is suspect.

 

Puzzles, exercise, supplements, reading, diets, and on and on promise to prevent or at least delay the above’s onset. It can get down right frantic trying to implement these preventative measures. But I guess the thought of this got me to sit down and try my hand at writing this. It is amazing how fear can be a motivation and lead to inspiration!

 

Thanks Butch . . .