Monday, April 30, 2012

Falter.

You know... I've been kind of bummed lately, because I think my writing has been faltering.  I never expected this blog to become a catalyst for me to write again, but it really has, and I've disappointed myself by not having been very clever or creative over the past month or so.  And not just the writing, but the improvs, too.  I've been letting my comfort control the situation, and really just taking a back seat to whatever feels easy.  Is it possible that I'm running out of ideas?  Or is it just that my mind has been sidetracked?

In a lot of ways I feel like whatever it was that had been feeding me creatively toward the beginning of this project has disappeared.  It's a little bit scary.  And though I know this happens, and it's totally normal, I hate to think that all the florid and fantastical channels that I once danced around in with carefree curiosity, might now be shut off.  Maybe I'll never find those places again.  And that thought really inspires a feeling of loss.  Because some of those places made me feel euphorically happy just to daydream about them.  And if I can't reach them again?

Could it be that I'm getting tired of this project?  Certainly it has been a huge commitment; much more than I ever imagined.  But I am still trying, still wondering, still working to get somewhere.  Maybe I've lost sight of where I could be trying to go.  But... then again, I never knew exactly, or even generally where that might be.

Maybe this is just a lull.  There are usually lulls during journeys, right?  Yeah... I'm at one of those moments where I'd rather just stay in the hotel instead of going to explore the town.  I just need a little rest... then I'll be ready for more.  That must be it....

Here we go, Day 260: https://ia600307.us.archive.org/33/items/Improv43012/20120430211509.mp3

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Risk.

I've been very aware that I have not been taking many (any) risks in my improvs.  At least not lately.  That really bugs me, because it's something I've always appreciated, and generally chastised when gone missing in performance.  I've never loved neat, perfectly ordered playing, unless it's neat, and perfectly ordered with a smear of unexpected danger and excitement.  Or if "neat and perfectly ordered" is ironically so, then that will work just fine, too.  But neat and ordered on its own is just dull.  So anyway, I'm bugged by my own self.  Not because I'm neat and ordered, but because I'm missing that element of risk.  You get it... I don't need to write on.

On the plus side, though, I've taken a couple of jazz lessons, and I think it might start to get me to focus on progressions a little better.  So far, my II-V-Is are pretty good.  ;)  Hopefully I will keep it up, and gather some momentum, and maybe, at some point soon, I'll know all my chord progressions so well, that I will be able to analyze, instantaneously, the funkiest chord I can muster.  And that is pretty funky.

Here we go, Day 259: https://ia600308.us.archive.org/31/items/Improv42912/20120429194550.mp3

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Art.

I told my student the other day, that if she would not perform a piece, her artwork would not exist.  It made her realize how specialized and personal her ability is.  And every time I think of that concept, it blows my mind a little bit more.  Though this is applicable to absolutely anything, it fascinates me a lot with music in particular, given the temporariness of sound.  You know, that whole time element twists everything so splendidly.

Here we go, Day 258: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/23/items/Improv42812/20120428144959.mp3

Friday, April 27, 2012

Spawn.

Well, then.  A little more shameless self-promotion.  Since I'm eagerly anticipating my bed tonight, I'd rather not get wrapped up in a wonderful philosophical discussion at this point.  Instead, I'll tell you to watch the Lyra competition live stream tomorrow at 5pm EST.  I organized it, after all... so you know it's gonna be, if not completely awesome, at least a little quirky and amusing.  I'll be doing the public speaking, and that's generally endearing... also a hotbed of painfully unintentional Freudian slips and mumblerifficness.  Plus, two of my own students will be performing, and, well, anyone who teaches privately knows that, at some point, your students become your little surrogates.  Even if only for an hour a week.  I'm definitely bonded with these two.  So check it out!  They're my musical spawn.

http://lyrasummermusic.com/Lyra_Competition.html

Here we go, Day 257: https://ia600308.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv42712/20120427212726.mp3


Brains.

Leave it to a non-musician to remind me how hard I believe in my craft.  And all he had to do was be an imbecile.  Maybe that gives me more belief in humanity... if I were surrounded by people like this at every moment... but then... hmmm....

On another thought, I got to talking with someone about ergonomics in relationship to brain function and how that all connects with our muscles, fine motor skills versus broad gestures and so forth.  And I brought up the idea that, though we might perceive red as different colors, we define it the same way; and that, though our bodies might connect to our muscles differently, maybe they learn to function more or less the same way out of what we find necessary.  Well, this all became quite theoretical, because, as it turns out, scientists have studied very little of this, and really have no answers.  I mean, if the NYU department has no idea, then I can't expect much from elsewhere.  (If you've got something, then show it.  I want to know.)  But, really, honestly????  I want them to study me and my friends.  I want to know the details of how we move, and what our brains are doing as we do this crafty thing, which is pretty ridiculous, in terms of motor skill.  Are my brain waves like yours as we both play the same piece?  Is there a "right" way in terms of physical manipulation?

Fascinating.

Really.

It's pretty interesting being the artsy wild card at a neuroscientist party.

Here we go, Day 256: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/30/items/Improv42612/20120426213027.mp3

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

In lieu.

After a week or so, dawdling on this video project I've been putting together, I finally settled on just stringing a bunch of my old photographs and doing the whole Ken Burns (recommended) thing in lieu of actual video.  So one of my favorite improvs (from November 8) is now on youtube.  I don't know how many of these improvs I'll do this with, since I'm not attached to many (or most) of them like I am to Nov. 8, but we'll see.  I think it's probably a good idea to branch out in this way a little bit.  All the kids are doing it, anyway, and who am I to resist peer pressure?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jxko9eI4cMI

Today's improv seems heavily influenced by the video improv.  I think that probably happens often... influence from hearing something over and over again.  Even if the influence was mine to begin with.  So be it.

Before I got all wrapped up in this, I had planned on writing about one of my favorite topics.  But instead, I'll just throw out this phrase:

...the intensity of understanding...

Discuss.

Here we go, Day 255: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/17/items/Improv42512/20120425211745.mp3

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Whim.

I've yet to discover the secret that some people possess, of being able to sit down to their instrument, and improvise something wonderful at whim.  Since I started this whole thing, there have been very few days where I've really felt like I had control over the artistic merit of what I was trying to do... and very many days where my total lack of focus produced exactly what I thought it would: total crap.  How do people do it?  When I'm exhausted, there's almost nothing I can attempt to pull my head into semblance.  Is there something I'm not catching on to?  Or is it more like the performance thing, where just being there onstage in front of an audience gives you that automatic ultra focus?  I wouldn't know the answer to that yet, since I've never actually improvised in front of people.  Anyone wish to weigh in?

Here we go, Day 254: https://ia600303.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv42412/20120424210358.mp3

There.

Blurghhhh!  Too late to worry about any of this...

Here we go, Day 253: https://ia800308.us.archive.org/6/items/Improv42312/20120423152355.mp3

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Barometric pressure.

A one-off today.

Lots of creative juices flowing... got lots of work done.  However, an evening, weather-related (probably) headache prevented total artistic bliss.  What should've been a few hours of practicing is now an early night blog post, soon to be followed with a forced movie or something equally unproductive.  I kind of hate that.  If I'm lucky, my body will let me sleep at a reasonable hour, and I'll be able to do my work tomorrow.  Fingers crossed on that one.  I've got some ideas brewing, and if I don't get the ball rolling on them soon, I know they will fall to the wayside.

Here we go, Day 252: https://ia600307.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv42212/20120422181902.mp3


This is living.

Okay, so I blew off a lot of responsibilities today, but they were abstract, at best.  And today's experiences were well worth the procrastination.  Very, very well worth it.

Ooooh, I'm bubbling with new knowledge... just a few days until I can share it.  Until then, I'll just mention that today ended with conversation concerning life and death.  And that I enjoy this (this = this.  All of this.  Everything, and so forth,) so very much that I just couldn't bear leaving it so easily.  I mean, I enjoy "it" sooo much that I feel like I'm privy to something secret.  How did I get so lucky as to know how special this is?

Here we go, Day 251: https://ia600308.us.archive.org/19/items/Improv42112/20120421141000.mp3

Friday, April 20, 2012

Opportunity.

Many times, when I get ready to begin my improv of the day, I think to myself what an opportunity it is to create something new and special.

So often, I'm not happy with the whole result, or there are many things that I would do differently... but it doesn't change the fact that I had a chance to shoot for an ideal.  And for the most part, things do not go so horribly wrong.

Kind of neat, right?  That every time we step into the world, we have something like that.

Here we go, Day 250: https://ia600302.us.archive.org/17/items/Improv42012/20120420142341.mp3

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Hide-and-go-seek.

What are we really trying to accomplish here?

Every time I step outside of my door, I begin a new game of hide-and-go-seek.  I'm usually the seeker.  I'm looking for something different; for groceries; for something that I once knew, but lost somewhere along the line; for something that I didn't lose, but I can only get out there; for answers; for delight; for catalysts; for reasons; for questions.

There's always a sense of adventure, being the seeker... of forcing oneself to look into scary or secret places to win the game.  But then there's the fun of being the hider.  And I like that, too.  The anticipation of being discovered... is... exciting.  *see aside below. 

Here we go, Day 249: https://ia800308.us.archive.org/35/items/Improv41912/20120419144122.mp3


*Playing hide-and-seek-in-the-dark with my Dad is, to this day, the height of anxiety.  You see, once game play begins, he becomes the actual Boogie Man.  He senses the perfect timing of allowing his victims to feel at ease before unleashing a grotesquely loud, mind-engulfing RAWR, which doesn't seem all that bad here in Blogland, but if you could experience it as a small child, you would understand the full gravity of this art.  Last time we played, my Dad hid, and I was teamed up with my little 4-year-old niece.  Knowing there were few places left to inspect, and relying on her naivety, I said, "You go check in the bathroom... go on."  It was quiet.  Too quiet.  She squeezed my hand, and said, "I'm scared, Auntie Maew."  I squeezed back, and with complete, thirty-year-old sincerity, whispered, "Me, too."  And then I started giggling crazily and uncontrollably, under the pressure of my nervousness, and the ridiculousness that it was just my Dad hiding.  My sister could verify the scariness of this situation with a bevy of anecdotal evidence.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Bestiness.

Ugh!  I hate it when websites, facebook, and so forth change their formats!!  I know... not a big deal, but really, I do get used to things and I like the familiarity of logging on to my blog to write a new post.  Today?  Totally different.  I know I'll get used to it, but it doesn't make me like it.

Anyway, it's a mixed blessing when one of my best friends comes into town... and even doubly mixed when he has brother and parents in tow.  It means that for as many days as they're here, I will forgo many important obligations in lieu of spending time with them.  I'm not complaining... this is more of an explanation for the short post tonight... and the surely short post tomorrow and friday... unless I get to them before I head out.

I hate him as much as I love him.  (I'm sure he'll have a mighty bruise on his bicep tomorrow as proof.  He should know better than to embarrass me in front of people I've just met.)  And that is why he's my best friend.  :)

Here we go, Day 248: https://ia800304.us.archive.org/27/items/Improv41812/20120418215147.mp3


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Don't choke the phrase.

I'm starting to find it a bit easier to incorporate purposeful patterns into my improvs.  Sometimes I just go for arpeggios and scales, which may come off as sort of cheap.  But remember, I'm still figuring this all out, so it's still just an experiment to see how the material translates.

You know what's bugging me, though, is that I can't seem to hold a melodic line for very long.  I get caught up with all the other business, and I sort of stop listening to the phrase.  Not good.  I'm still trying, though....

... and Oh, how my tendencies are becoming so crystal clear!  Blurgh.

The air has been smelling sunny lately... so. tempting. must. do. work.

Here we go, Day 247: https://ia600307.us.archive.org/24/items/Improv41712/20120417145304.mp3

My New York.

The really exquisite moments are being in a place like New York, and finding some semblance of singularity.  I don't think that's why I'm a night owl... I think I'm like that to begin with.  But this hour, or those around these hours, anyway, are the sublime moments to find the time of respite in an otherwise crazed and bewildering town.  It's wonderful, true, and belonging... these moments of New York experience outside of something anyone else is privy to.  And in three hours, give or take, the experience will be totally unattainable.  The price?  Absurd.  Never to be had again.

Here we go, Day 246: https://ia800303.us.archive.org/9/items/Improv41612/20120416144555.mp3

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Love/hate.

There was a time when musicians spent most of their time playing music and/or composing.  But in this day and age, what we really do is sit on front of a computer emailing about concerts, updating websites, figuring out how to embed widgets and so forth.  And blogging, too... I can't forget that.  For a computer illiterate such as myself, this is a taste of the first level of hell.  Although I'm glad for it, too, because without all these resources I'm sure I wouldn't be nearly so ambitious as I've been over the last couple of years.  I certainly would not have kept up with these improvs.  (Accountability matters, doesn't it, then?)  But, *sigh*... the screen that stares back has a tendency to zap my creativity, and thus, tonight's post ends here.  Good night, dear friends.  Until tomorrow....

Here we go, Day 245: https://ia800302.us.archive.org/3/items/Improv41512/20120415181900.mp3

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Retrato em branco e preto.

Today marks my first park day of the season, which I am very happy about.  Living close to Central Park is as great as it sounds, maybe even better... because when one has no yard to call one's own, the vast green lawn of the Sheep Meadow is that much more appreciated.

The park bums were all there today... we know the drink sellers by name.  And comment on the excellent frisbee throwers we recognize from last summer.  Ahhhh!  It's here.

Also, it's Robert Doisneau's 100th birthday today.  I know everyone has already seen his beautiful photographs, and knows them well, but it really can't hurt to put a few here.  They're so wonderful.

Here we go, Day 244: https://ia600308.us.archive.org/7/items/Improv41412/20120414192417.mp3






Friday, April 13, 2012

Toil and trouble.

I guess what I thought about most today was giving my website a major overhaul; my secret plan; and how I really understand Schubert quite well.  Playing through a bit today, taking liberties here and there, I thought to myself, "He would be so okay with this.  I know what I'm doing."  Honestly, the number of times I've felt that way when I've played music has been in the high negatives.  But yeah, Schubert's kinda my main squeeze, and I've got no reservations with him.

Here we go, Day 243: https://ia801001.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv41312/20120413191423.mp3

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Navigator.

Curiouser and curiouser.

The more questioning and concerned I become about this transformation I've been going through, the more certain and confident I feel with my artistic and intellectual evolution.  And yet I still find myself constantly under the gun... as if the next ten years is, yes, perhaps quite a long time, but not nearly enough time at all.

It's been roughly eight months since I started this project, and I simultaneously feel like my change has been happening so quickly, and so laboriously slow.  Shouldn't I already be a fully-navigating, telescope-in-right hand, brass compass-in-left, improvisation machine?  I'm still groping around in the dark; touching damp soil, and wiggly worms, and a few other slimy things.

But maybe that's okay.  Because there was never a specific goal, per se, outside of just wanting to be able to improvise.  The real harvest here has all been in the journey, the tangents, the twists and turns, the questions, the advices, all of the interesting conversations I've had about this blog, and the people I've become connected to because of it.  For all of the formal edification I've had, all of the lessons I've received, I'm not sure if any of those compare to the education I've gotten from this humble little blog and these often silly, seemingly inconsequential improvisations.  I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to express fully how my life has changed from this.  And this is only two-thirds of the way through!

That being said, though, I still hope I'll be able to satisfactorily produce some good improvs by the time it's over.  I remain a classical pianist at heart... yes, the end results do matter to me.  But I realize more and more every day, as was always my shining truth since I can remember, that what is shared and expressed is far more important than following the rules.  And despite protecting and cultivating this notion in my heart for years, I still have to sometimes remind myself that it's okay to step outside of my boundaries.

Now, picking from three super different improvs... what to post, what to post...?

Here we go, Day 242: https://ia800301.us.archive.org/24/items/Improv41212/20120412181543.mp3


I don't really need to translate this, right?

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Teaser.

So yesterday marked the beginning of a big, expensive, good, and scary plan.  Details revealed another day, in the near future.

(... see what I did there?  I expect you to follow for a while now.)

Here we go, Day 241: https://ia600300.us.archive.org/29/items/Improv41112/20120411214511.mp3

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Might.

I walk the streets of New York, and one of my most favorite things is my anonymity, but I think that what I like about the anonymity is that it means if someone notices me, I might be that much more special, because no one is supposed to notice anyone else on a crowded street.

I want to be, and have always wanted to be, the exception to the rule.  Since my first memories....  Really, truly.  I picked piano at age five, for example, because my brother and sister both played violin.  And even though I had already started violin lessons and really loved it and wanted both, I told my mom I would play piano, because no one else in the family did it.  Little did I know at the time that it was the most popular instrument outside of the family.

I've never allowed anyone to tell me what I could or could not be; to put limitations on my capabilities in any regard.  And that's not to say I'm limitless, because I certainly conjure plenty of doubts for myself, and fully understand that I'm not a superhero, nor am I anywhere close to one.  But it's funny... when I'm told "no," or "you can't," I always seem to react with an, "Oh, yeah?"  I'm sure my parents would attest to this with strong affirmation, obedient as I was in childhood.

Leading a defiant life must carry a price.  But to be honest, I haven't yet discovered what that price might be.  And a big part of me thinks, happily, that I might never find out.

Here we go, Day 240: https://ia800306.us.archive.org/4/items/Improv41012/20120410203250.mp3

The almighty dollar.

There is, actually, a threshold of what money can buy, and whether happiness is involved.  Well... yeah.  There's some happiness that money could buy me.  But at some point, that would definitely dissolve.  What it could buy me is definitely within my realm.  And... all truth be told, it is in my near future.

Beyond that... I'm not sure if monetary wealth would do me much good.  I mean, before it began to cause problems. 

Here we go, Day 239: https://ia800304.us.archive.org/1/items/Improv4912/20120409193719.mp3

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Lucky star.

It was really fun playing some great music over the weekend.

Now, then.  Arriving back home, after a packed weekend of traveling, rehearsing, playing, and little sleeping... immediately, all I wanted to do was sit down to play piano.  I am so ridiculously happy when I play music.  Whatever I did in my past lives to deserve this lucky draw... I don't know, but it must've been good.

Might I discuss briefly: the noticeable improvement of my ensemble and performance skills since beginning this improv project.  And I'm not the only one to notice.  Even Akiko was like, "Man, you're way more grounded and relaxed."  Sweet.  I seriously, whole-heartedly credit this project for any and all of that.  Amazing.

Here we go, Day 238: https://ia600306.us.archive.org/27/items/Improv4812/20120408212537.mp3

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Boston.

I appreciate.

And can't wait.

Bite my lip in anticipation.  It smartly grants a moment or two more of patience.

I've got some plans brewing.

Improvs from yesterday (after a long bus ride, nap-needing, and three-hour rehearsal, so kinda wiped out), and this morning, a bit fresher.  Couldn't get the internet to work for me yesterday, hence the delayed post.

Here we go, Day 236: https://ia800302.us.archive.org/9/items/Improv4612/20120406230257.mp3

And, here we go, Day 237: https://ia600305.us.archive.org/7/items/Improv4712/20120407121312.mp3

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Empty.

Oh, right.  This thing.  I need to post an improv.  Okay.

...

So,

how's it goin'?

...

Can I be honest?  For the past week or so, maybe even a bit longer, all of my improvs have felt like total crap.  And on top of it, I feel like I haven't been able to write anything that I care about.  What is this?  It's like my little tank is empty!  The buzz is gone.  Someone dumped me back into this here place.  There is no expression coming out, and what's worse is that I don't even feel like there is any to get out in the first place.  I hope it's in there... I hope, strangely, that it's in there, and I'm blocking it for some reason.  I just want it to be there.  And I kind of know that it is, because of this extreme restlessness I've had lately... you know, the kind that gives the insomnia bite.  I thought it might be the full moon, and my inner werewolf getting all repressed and antsy in public.  But who knows....

Anyway.

Here we go, Day 235: https://ia800307.us.archive.org/32/items/Improv4512/20120405200900.mp3

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Happiest.

Whirlwindy day.

The daffodils I got yesterday were duds.  That's kind of disappointing.

Ran through the Brahms C minor trio this morning, and am ever reminded how crazy, really, really crazy, it is to play this thing.  What made the run-through even better was that it was with two people who, though initially trained in classical music, are now both steeped in the improv world.  After the first movement, the violinist said, "Huh!!  So I guess I need vibrato again."  Pretty interesting to talk with these two about the paths we've walked.

Anyway, I'm equally excited and terrified to perform this beast again.  It really is nerve-wracking.  I am not ashamed to say that it is hard for me.  Let's see what happens.  At any rate, playing music with other people is pretty much the best thing ever, and when I imagine myself at my happiest, it's usually in these situations.

Here we go, Day 234: https://ia600309.us.archive.org/12/items/Improv4412/20120404211720.mp3

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

The doll.

Today's improv is about a weird doll.

A little boy and his sister are playing.  He teases her about her favorite doll, and she becomes bashful.  She sits her doll on a shelf while they play.

Mom comes to make them do chores.  Terrible!  The boy, an obstinate little one, whines and argues.  His sister does as she's told, and goes to help her mother.  Left alone, the boy enters his own world of imagination.

He plays a game of soldiers, imitating them as they march along.  But... !  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the shelved doll move.

...

I'm not really sure where the subject matter of this came from.  It just floated into my head during a prior improv, and I thought it might be a good storyline to follow.  Or... maybe it came from my google search last night for "weird russian movies."  Which came from seeing the Mezhrabpom: The Red Dream Factory movie exhibition announcement in the April issue of the MoMA calendar.  Anyway, all our mental images come from somewhere, right?

Here we go, Day 233: https://ia800307.us.archive.org/26/items/Improv4312/20120403213735.mp3



These aren't all actually from weird Russian films.  But some of them are.  The first one I found on a site about "weird movies," which happened to also have, next in line, a movie called Carnival of the Souls.  I had watched it with my family on Christmas a few years ago on Dad's recommendation.  Super weird.  I mean, it IS CALLED, Carnival of the Souls.  That is Christmas in the Prescott household.  And really, I don't think that any of my friends would be surprised by this new information.

The second one actually doesn't look weird at all... and I'm pretty sure it's from a masterpiece that I don't know.

The third one looks completely weird.  I don't have any information about it, except it looks like he's being strangled by a brain and spinal column.

This last one is Polish.  From the film, The Saragossa Manuscript.  I thought the still was cool, so I grabbed it, but in fact, I know nothing about this except that apparently, Scorsese and Coppola were both fans.  However, I could endorse anything right now, right here, by anyone.  Here.  Let me try.... 

You know who loved donuts?  Robert Louis Stevenson loved donuts.  Not the fluffy, yeast based ones, but cake donuts.  The kind that are a little bit more dense, and if they're done especially well, the outside has a slight crispiness.  He really, really liked those.  So much, in fact, that he wrote a poem about them.  The poem was lost, however, in a fire that, ironically, started when his wife had attempted to make some donuts for Stevenson all by herself.  When Stevenson came home with his poem in hand, he discovered that his wife really did not know him at all!  Furious and deeply hurt that she had been deep frying yeast based donuts instead of his beloved cake donuts, Stevenson crumpled the poem into a little ball and threw it at her with all his might.  He tossed up the handle on the pot of hot oil, causing it to splatter all over the stove.  The oil began to burn immediately, and it was not long before their entire home and the donut poem were a mass of charred ashes. 

Isn't that a sad story?  But now you probably believe that Robert Louis Stevenson was really into donuts.  When in fact, I don't even know if donuts existed back then.  But guess what!  Robert Louis Stevenson is the inventor of donuts.  Do you know how many people are going to fact check that?  None.  That's how many.  None.  Thank you, Mr. Internet. 

Monday, April 2, 2012

A girl.

There is a girl.  She's wandering down the street.

The street is damp and with a metallic sheen.  I like the look, and geometric contrasts offset by the colors: the black of the asphalt, taupe of the concrete (which is taupe when it's wet, not grey,) and rust of the brick buildings that loom on the edges of everything.  And of course the spots of green from the new spring leaves that are even greener than usual because of the cool, New York mistiness on a cloudy day, ready for rain.

She takes small, but sure steps.  Such expressiveness, even from just the back of her little head.  Her hands are open and not out to the sides, but not down either... just kind of floating; she's feeling the wet air stroke her palms as she moves forward, painting them with dewy condensation. 

Improv is not just for music.  It's for blog posts, too.  See?

Here we go, Day 232: https://ia800304.us.archive.org/16/items/Improv4212/20120402135611.mp3

Sunday, April 1, 2012

April foolish.

Again with the writer's block.  I guess I'm missing my sounding board lately. 

Though I did spend some more time with my dear Schubert today.  The G-flat Impromptu is the stuff miracles are made of.

Here we go, Day 231: https://ia800308.us.archive.org/13/items/Improv4112/20120401200320.mp3