Teachers pt1
Thank god Mercury went direct! While the planet of technology and communication was in retrograde my fader went completely stiff. Stiff beyond lube stiff. It was a brick. Sure in some ways it was god telling me to scratch more with my main faders, but in the final analysis I’m only as smooth as my mixer and when it gets rough so does my mood.
Almost but not quite fatal, this flailing fader issue went on for a month, burdening my mind with cash flow math trying to think of how to conjure up coin for its replacement. Yesterday, in a freak spurt of desperation, I gave the thing one more lube blast on the heels of a prayer. The whole thing’s back to normal, as if nothing happened and all those previous lube jobs were but mere figments of my imagination. I’m not going to question it. The great dj in the sky has shown benevolent mercy on his cash strapped disciples and rooted out the evil, or whatever it was that possesed my penny and giles bringing it to near mechanical death.
Anyway, during my stiff fader struggles, I was a little lackluster in my practice habits, and while justifiably the brick that was my fader didn’t do much to entice me behind the decks, the whole experience once again tested my commitment to daily practice, or at least daily practice with my mixer (more on that later). It was a good reminder of the resilience required to survive the little hinderances that can block progress as much as the large ones. However, I’ve got an antidote these days when bouts of apathy hit . I read my blog.
A few months ago, sitting in my studio on the grayest of gray days, draped in winter blues and completely bereft of inspiration, for the simple lack of any thing better to do, I read my blog. After a few pieces I realized that it was not just an avenue of expression, it fulfilled the crucial role of providing means of reflection. Reading what you you’ve written can be one of the best motivators out there. Reading my own blog, I was reminded about what the hell I was doing, and why the turntable was so important, to me at least . Cause it was coming from me I couldn’t just shluff it off. Reading my blog re-excited me about the turntables. My words reminded me about the joys of turntablism. From all the words I just “threw out there.” I was re-inspired, and the funk was back behind my speakers and not in my soul.
The whole affair speaks to the importance of the one on one conversations we have with ourselves. Parted only by time, we are our greatest teachers. Perhaps this is why sports trainers and music schools teachers promote the practice journal so much. Documenting our process has such value, if yourself more than anyone. It allows the 99% perspiration, 1 % inspiration equation a place of reflection.
In a practice funk? A straight-up inspiring article from Getsigned.com
The Secret to Being a Successful Musician: www.getsigned.com/jake3.html
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