guerrilla journals

This week has been a bad week for the flutist in me.

Monday lesson was a mess. My playing was airy, my Bb was trash. I had taken the plugs out a few days earlier so air was escaping all over the place. We worked on L'irlandaise, and my task was to play as quietly as possible without going flat. The slower your air, the lower your note. The slower your air, the flat you are. The less air you use, the quieter you are. So I had to play low notes (slow air), but not too flat (so not too slow) but also play quietly (so not too much air) but still not. flat. (so still gotta use a lot of air). Yah.

Tuesday, I didn't practice. Shhh.

Wednesday was a viola day. We added fingerboard tape so that I can have some semblance of playing somewhat in tune. I've never played with fingerboard tape before so that was an experience. Still a lot of room for error. The tips of my fingers hurt from the string but pain is good. That means calluses are happening. Calluses mean practice. I didn't pick up my flute again today. Tell no one.

Thursday, we worked on the Bloch piece, a duet with me and a pianist. I had to work a lot on leading since I am the key instrumentalist. Leading is hard because I'm listening to make sure she's following and she's listening to me to follow so we're piggybacking off of each other instead of playing. There are a lot of sixteenth notes and not a lot of room for breathing so I got feedback that I was rushing and in a hurry and not doing the delicate dance that a suite is supposed to be. And I'm rushing to the spots where I get to breathe, so fair but also. How in the hell do you make sixteenth notes a delicate dance?

Friday, I tried to make the Bloch piece less rush-y. It failed. I felt lightheaded from using so much air (necessary when you can't find places to breathe) and nothing felt delicate or light.

Saturday, the Bloch piece still stinted. 10/10 would fight Bloch for the Satanic dance of hell that he's put in front me. BUT the “In the Moonlight” étude from Köhler's romantic collection is coming along and I remember last week when I couldn't play it so. Yeah.

And that leads us to today, Sunday where my candid selfies of me dicking around sounded better than In the Moonlight. The Bloch is coming along. It is slightly less constipated. The poop is semi-hard but flowing.

My playing may be trash but my metaphor is on point.