I entered the zone tonight, Friday, at 23.18. As part of the waiting before going out for my weekly (or bi-weekly) Friday-at-midnight dinner with the Boy, I've been sitting here since 20.30 studying Arabic. That means almost three straight hours have been spent at this desk writing "He goes to Samir's house" and "They take the bus to Baghdad Street." I didn't even realize it. I have pages of writing; it's all coming together. Strange, really. All week, I kept picking up my book only to trip and stumble over all those words. And this evening, very bizarre...it's all flowing.
The only thing that has managed to stop me is track six on Stevie Ray Vaughan's "Couldn't Stand the Weather." Total concentration, full speed a head, and I suddenly drop my pencil and listen to his guitar.
The music gave me a moment where I thought I had lost my vibe. My groove. My deep appreciation of music. It made me remember what good music really sounds like, and caused a wistful nostalgia that brought back memories of when I was discovering new tunes at an unholy rate.
Lately, I haven't found much that I dig. And it's sad. I've been listening to the same albums over and over, or new ones half-heartedly. But then Stevie's guitar started singing and my three hour Friday night study session's spell was broken.
I sit back in my new(ish) office chair and just breathe it in. And I think about how much I love people that understand great music, and how I need to meet more people who are willing to share with me so that I can expand my musical horizons.
Right then, I hear a singing, chanting voice calling out from the formerly silent living room. It's the Boy... feeling the soul too, at the exact same moment. He can't understand the words but he understands anyway. Now that's soul. Or the blues, in the case of track six.
Stevie Ray Vaughn - Little Wing.
Right on, Lottie.
Do you play any instruments? It seems like you would...
Do you play any instruments? It seems like you would...or should.
Sherry - I agree, I should. But I don't. I didn't take Mike's advice when I was nine, and the people at our school told us we could choose an instrument. Mike said I should try the drums. He knew, he was a drummer. I went the girly route and chose the flute. I don't know what I was thinking. Now I want to learn the drums. Only fourteen years later.
Its never too late to start. Learn the drums.
Piano. Keyboard. That's where one really learns how the music is structured. I wish I had taken just a little. And I wish the kids had, too.
Dad - Kari and I both took piano lessons for several years. Like, three or four each. I stopped when our cool piano teacher moved away and the scary man with nose hairs who had become my new teacher yelled at me for not having practiced my scales. Mom had me fire him myself. It was horrible.
I guess you missed that whole scene. It was brutal.
I play piano, very badly. I also play trumpet and violin though, perhaps somewhat better.