The rankness of the beginner
Ninety minutes of bliss. A concert slash making of documentary with Alan Doyle, wherein we learned about his recent (and first solo) effort, Boy On Bridge. I want to watch it again, right now, it was so good. The man is one of the rare ones, and he surrounds himself with some classy talent.
Enough faint praise. I didn’t sleep well last night, due to stress. I’m back in school, and my first performance exam in, well, a very long time, is due. Not today, not tomorrow, but I’m caught in the glare of the headlights (oncoming deadline liner). Not a pretty sight. And so, up from the Alan experience, I decided to move into the empty bedroom downstairs, start Audacity and record several minutes of… nothing I want to share with the public, friend or foe alike. You’ve heard the term “rank beginner”? It has everything to do with the odour, I fear.
I know, you have to pay your dues. Everyone is a beginner at some point. But the exercises were trivial; akin to the Arban-Klose-Concone studies that we hated back in high school. And the performance was execrable. Picture a myopic fool, trying to hit the record button on the computer, grab the pick, place the fingers for the opening chord and then pretend that this was wonderful material. Not Fooling Nobody.
By next week, I expect to improve greatly (this is a six week effort), and by summer… must be the lack of sleep. I’m hallucinating. It doesn’t matter. My goal is to complete the assignments in a timely fashion, and today’s effort is already “out there”.
