reflection

[nightning]

I think that is why it is important you leave the first and even the second piano teacher before you attain to his level. Otherwise he stifles you.

All the great pianists left their first piano teacher early. Arthur Rubinstein had one of the best teachers in his time. There were tears, yes. But.. had he not left, would he have become Arthur Rubinstein? The Arthur Rubinstein...?

Intuition cannot be taught.

Yes wildcat... I see what you mean. I left though... quit simply. No more piano. That's not important to this discussion though.

It looks as if it flows.
An illusion.

They say time flows.
Another illusion.

Like they say thoughts flow? Hmmmm... I have the radio on... listening to music and trying to imagine what will happen if there's no rests (pauses). It'll be meaningless. Because then everything will sound exactly the same.

Tempo rubato... robbed time. The placement of the pauses... dragging out phrases, shortening others. Like a well delivered speech. Pause for effect! I get it now. Many left-handed musicians indeed.

Question... do they punctuate correctly? or do they know the rules well enough to break them?

It's like how rubato cannot be taught. Trying to "time it" within strict time makes it sound artificial... stilted. Does that apply to speech and punctuations?

 

[wildcat]

You're left-handed too?
And what would be the correlation between being left-handed and punctuating correctly?

Yes. I am left handed, too.

It depends what you mean by punctuation.
Is this punctuation:

A left handed person stands on the platform in front of the railway station (excuse me Xander!) and watches the train arrive. It is a local train, it comes quickly. There is a lot of people on the platform, it is the rush hour.
The train has sixteen carriages and each carriage has got three pairs of doors.
She wants to enter the seventh carriage seen from the locomotive and chooses the set of doors that is closest to it. People enter through the right side of the door.
When the train approaches she leisurely starts walking.
With one glance she has to determine the exact speed of the train to be able to decide when to start walking, and to be able to decide her speed of walking. Everything happens very fast. When the train stops she is in the right place at the right time. And of course she is the first person to enter the train. There is nobody around!

In essence, that kind of skill is punctuation, is it not?
It is about to be able to take the right action in the right direction in the right time.

The correlation figure I do not think can be said. It depends on factors involved such as the degree of laterality, age, impatience etc.

Acting, speaking, playing an instrument, singing, moving in front of a camera, tennis, ballet..

 

[elfinchilde]

damn. i am late to this discussion. couldn't we keep everything in wildcat's blog instead?

but hello, dane.

------

The Teacher stopped there, because no other words are necessary from there, if you have understood.

Because love is not holding on. It is in letting go. Appreciate if it is here, do not crave or cling if it is not.

can the soul lust for more beauty? Yes. But then, the desire is not for beauty per se, but for possession of that beauty. Therein the distinction.

In a concrete analogy: If you see a beautiful flower, it awakens love in you. Do you leave it on the stalk, or do you pluck it? that is the difference between the awakening and appreciation of love, and possession of love.

perceiving in the moment halting creation: No. Creation has its own times and tides. Before the act of creation is the moment of inspiration. The fallow time, when the hand does not act. But just because the hand is stayed, does not mean creation is not occuring.

it all depends on how you define creation: mere activity, or the gathering of inspiration too?

The soul does not need to redraw from the body. It simply has to find its moments of beauty, and not be affected by what's going on without. Like a subterranean stream calm below the gurgling rush of the stream above. Can you hear both at once? there is no dichotomy, because a person can be both at once.

He sees beauty and to his credit discovered he has love.
But what price beauty and what price love? What does it cost to "let go"?

I cannot understand wildcat - I cannot aspire to be him, rather. Honestly.

Personally: there is no cost in letting go. The only cost is fear of letting go.

True. Expectation is not acceptance.
Maybe that is why Krishnamurti said hope is suicide.
Whatever will be, will be.

Acceptance is courage to live.
To live is to own nothing.

To love and be loved is to abide by the tide. Night is wise.

Totally. best wildcat ever.

What we call music is distraction. True music is silence between sounds.

An example, please?

Art is in silence, not sound. i cannot do music here, but i can give a bit of poetry. The following poem i had written some years back; it was published in the US, UK, australia and my own country. Hopefully, it will illustrate what wildcat means better.

Saturn

So this is Saturn: a body folded
into itself, under the soft enormity of mass
to feel denseless, loosened and yielding -

the smell of rose and spice all mixed
with lamplight and remoteness
of a logic how,
like mathematics, it's always conditional

yet faultless; for without
the mitigation of oracles or telescopes,
who can see or would believe
the insubstantiality of rings.

-------------

saturn is a planet. use the image as one for love. rings of saturn are a symbol for wedding rings, then. love is conditional yet faultless. the human version of it.

the poem's meaning is not in its words but in the spaces between the words. The depth of feeling between them.

 

[wildcat]

damn. i am late to this discussion. couldn't we keep everything in wildcat's blog instead?

but hello, dane.

------

The Teacher stopped there, because no other words are necessary from there, if you have understood.

Because love is not holding on. It is in letting go. Appreciate if it is here, do not crave or cling if it is not.

can the soul lust for more beauty? Yes. But then, the desire is not for beauty per se, but for possession of that beauty. Therein the distinction.

In a concrete analogy: If you see a beautiful flower, it awakens love in you. Do you leave it on the stalk, or do you pluck it? that is the difference between the awakening and appreciation of love, and possession of love.

perceiving in the moment halting creation: No. Creation has its own times and tides. Before the act of creation is the moment of inspiration. The fallow time, when the hand does not act. But just because the hand is stayed, does not mean creation is not occuring.

it all depends on how you define creation: mere activity, or the gathering of inspiration too?

The soul does not need to redraw from the body. It simply has to find its moments of beauty, and not be affected by what's going on without. Like a subterranean stream calm below the gurgling rush of the stream above. Can you hear both at once? there is no dichotomy, because a person can be both at once.



Personally: there is no cost in letting go. The only cost is fear of letting go.




Totally. best wildcat ever.



Art is in silence, not sound. i cannot do music here, but i can give a bit of poetry. The following poem i had written some years back; it was published in the US, UK, australia and my own country. Hopefully, it will illustrate what wildcat means better.

Saturn

So this is Saturn: a body folded
into itself, under the soft enormity of mass
to feel denseless, loosened and yielding -

the smell of rose and spice all mixed
with lamplight and remoteness
of a logic how,
like mathematics, it's always conditional

yet faultless; for without
the mitigation of oracles or telescopes,
who can see or would believe
the insubstantiality of rings.

-------------

saturn is a planet. use the image as one for love. rings of saturn are a symbol for wedding rings, then. love is conditional yet faultless. the human version of it.

the poem's meaning is not in its words but in the spaces between the words. The depth of feeling between them.

Elfinchilde!

A lovely poem! Thank you!
And good morning!

I was constructing my reply to mousie. He asks such tricky questions!
meowie needs


and yes, you are right as always.. art is about space.. about spacing

 

[elfinchilde]

^. totally. art is about spaces, about spacing.

you go have your coffee. it's 530 am! you should be in bed your time! *scolds*

. i'll be out soon. you take care yea.

 

[wildcat]

^. totally. art is about spaces, about spacing.

you go have your coffee. it's 530 am! you should be in bed your time! *scolds*

. i'll be out soon. you take care yea.

I just had my coffee! And now it is 11.12 in the morning!

A curious incident happened! I read your post at 531 am.. and when I had passed the word "scolds" my mind elapsed into a semi-slumber.
My lids became heavy.. heavy..
.. I began to sleepwalk towards my bed..

What happened then I have no recollection about!
I must have been asleep
You are truly an elfie!

I am a rich cat! I have two blogs now!

I hope you had a good day amidst the flowers and temples and island-hop maneuvres!

 

[white]

We had a good day wandering around the streets of Soho, taking photos of the street I live in. Little corners, where old men and women sit in the sunshine, remembering. A temple where the triads and police pray together, side by side. A row of people seeking a fortune-teller to explain the mysteries of their fate to them. I was tempted to ask, but did not. The wet market, with the live fishes and prawns, bound for a different fate *chuckles*. Streets of jade and antique sellers. Little corner cafes, bistros, opened by people after a different dream, from the finely suited business-men dining in their places.

I shall miss this place. Its neon ephemerality seems so real, alive.

I'm left-handed too, but learnt to use my right. Perhaps it is easiest to explain the question of music, by saying, without the silence, all you'd hear is a cacaphony of noise. The silence gives the structure to the music. Lends sense to the notes.

Mousie, I used to learn the piano too, but too many knocks on my knuckles from the teacher took all the fun out of it. So I stopped learning. But I began to play.

 

[wildcat]

We had a good day wandering around the streets of Soho, taking photos of the street I live in. Little corners, where old men and women sit in the sunshine, remembering. A temple where the triads and police pray together, side by side. A row of people seeking a fortune-teller to explain the mysteries of their fate to them. I was tempted to ask, but did not. The wet market, with the live fishes and prawns, bound for a different fate *chuckles*. Streets of jade and antique sellers. Little corner cafes, bistros, opened by people after a different dream, from the finely suited business-men dining in their places.

I shall miss this place. Its neon ephemerality seems so real, alive.

I'm left-handed too, but learnt to use my right. Perhaps it is easiest to explain the question of music, by saying, without the silence, all you'd hear is a cacaphony of noise. The silence gives the structure to the music. Lends sense to the notes.

Mousie, I used to learn the piano too, but too many knocks on my knuckles from the teacher took all the fun out of it. So I stopped learning. But I began to play.

I thought you poor aelan have to work in the office! And I noticed elfie had said: we..

I wandered who is the other lucky one.. it cannot be aelan..
But it was you! Wildy was in the wrong again!

So happy for you

I know only one Soho.. the heart and soul of London, the hang-out of poets and artists and madmen. There I used to stand with my pint of bitter in one hand and salt nuts in the other in a pub behind Oxford Street, chatting with small-time gangsters about the changing face of London. Red wine and fish in a shady bistro, Jamaican men dancing with their hats on in a night club under a blue bulb, coffee and sandwich at five in the morning, to end the heavy day in St. James' park under an elm.

Your Soho sounds even better. Triads and police pray together! That I call true friendhip!
The finely-suited business men do not know what they miss!

I knew one of you had to be a leftie cos you are mirror twins. So happy for you.
Now we have three lefties in the MBTIc.

Good that you began to play! Learning is for the finely-suited bourgeoisie business men.
Playing is fun!

Even I can play a little. I can play Come Back Liza. A Calypso song.

 

[white]

I thought you poor aelan have to work in the office! And I noticed elfie had said: we..

I wandered who is the other lucky one.. it cannot be aelan..
But it was you! Wildy was in the wrong again!

So happy for you

I know only one Soho.. the heart and soul of London, the hang-out of poets and artists and madmen. There I used to stand with my pint of bitter in one hand and salt nuts in the other in a pub behind Oxford Street, chatting with small-time gangsters about the changing face of London. Red wine and fish in a shady bistro, Jamaican men dancing with their hats on in a night club under a blue bulb, coffee and sandwich at five in the morning, to end the heavy day in St. James' park under an elm.

Your Soho sounds even better. Triads and police pray together! That I call true friendhip!
The finely-suited business men do not know what they miss!

I knew one of you had to be a leftie cos you are mirror twins. So happy for you.
Now we have three lefties in the MBTIc.

Good that you began to play! Learning is for the finely-suited bourgeoisie business men.
Playing is fun!

Even I can play a little. I can play Come Back Liza. A Calypso song.

Easter is a holiday here, so aelan can play

I know the Soho you speak of. I remember a friend running drunk down its streets in the misty cold of the London winter at 4am. I do not remember how I got home that night.

Perhaps there is some similarity in Sohos around the world. That air of free-spirited artistry in living, and the dirty fringes of those who chased fools' gold but could never let go of the illusion. And what is real life glimmering just under the shadow of the glitter.

I'll record something when I get home for you, a song for a wildcat. It'll be poor playing, but it'll be for you. Perhaps a duet with elfie, if she will

Unfortunately, I'm one of those suits at work.

 

[wildcat]

Easter is a holiday here, so aelan can play

I know the Soho you speak of. I remember a friend running drunk down its streets in the misty cold of the London winter at 4am. I do not remember how I got home that night.

Perhaps there is some similarity in Sohos around the world. That air of free-spirited artistry in living, and the dirty fringes of those who chased fools' gold but could never let go of the illusion. And what is real life glimmering just under the shadow of the glitter.

I'll record something when I get home for you, a song for a wildcat. It'll be poor playing, but it'll be for you. Perhaps a duet with elfie, if she will

Unfortunately, I'm one of those suits at work.

Wildcat should have known it is a holiday there!
Glad that you had time off with elfie!

With a drunken friend the best thing is to get a cabbie. But that may be hard at four in the morning..

Thanks for the song! A duet is perfect!

I was also one of those suits

 

[white]

Wildcat should have known it is a holiday there!
Glad that you had time off with elfie!

With a drunken friend the best thing is to get a cabbie. But that may be hard at four in the morning..

Thanks for the song! A duet is perfect!

I was also one of those suits

It is ok, I always forget timezones and things.

hehehehehee. Siiiiisssterrrr... wildcat would dearly love to hear us play a duet.... *psst, wildcat, will record it for you when we're back!*



Yaps. Suit has its good and bad. Being the suits allows you the income to stagger home drunk, and find a cab at that hour in London too.

I was with friends, and we didn't stay too far away, I think we walked back.

 

[wildcat]

Yes wildcat... I see what you mean. I left though... quit simply. No more piano. That's not important to this discussion though.


Like they say thoughts flow? Hmmmm... I have the radio on... listening to music and trying to imagine what will happen if there's no rests (pauses). It'll be meaningless. Because then everything will sound exactly the same.

Tempo rubato... robbed time. The placement of the pauses... dragging out phrases, shortening others. Like a well delivered speech. Pause for effect! I get it now. Many left-handed musicians indeed.

Question... do they punctuate correctly? or do they know the rules well enough to break them?

It's like how rubato cannot be taught. Trying to "time it" within strict time makes it sound artificial... stilted. Does that apply to speech and punctuations?

tempo rubato! yes, an interesting concept.
Not that I knew anything about it.. I checked in the wiki.

They mentioned Chopin.. who played with the rules in one hand while employing the rubato with another. Incredible!

Thank you nightning, for this new concept! You have enriched ol' wildcat's world.

And you say it exactly! Rubato cannot be taught!
I think it is the thing Arthur Rubinstein called "cheating"..
He confessed he had cheated all his life.
He hated to run through the scales.. over and over..

And when he performed, he could not master the scales anywhere near perfection.
I think he played rubato.. only the genius can cheat succesfully.

They say if you alter the time you have to even out in succession..
Nope. The genius player does not have to even anything.

The rules are to be broken, as you say.

They know the rules.. but because they do not bother to run through the scales in preparation, they do not have a hand in them.

It does not matter. Because they know the rules they can break them.
It is called virtuosity.

 

[lastrailway]

Yes. I am left handed, too.

It depends what you mean by punctuation.
Is this punctuation:

A left handed person stands on the platform in front of the railway station (excuse me Xander!) and watches the train arrive. It is a local train, it comes quickly. There is a lot of people on the platform, it is the rush hour.
The train has sixteen carriages and each carriage has got three pairs of doors.
She wants to enter the seventh carriage seen from the locomotive and chooses the set of doors that is closest to it. People enter through the right side of the door.
When the train approaches she leisurely starts walking.
With one glance she has to determine the exact speed of the train to be able to decide when to start walking, and to be able to decide her speed of walking. Everything happens very fast. When the train stops she is in the right place at the right time. And of course she is the first person to enter the train. There is nobody around!

In essence, that kind of skill is punctuation, is it not?
It is about to be able to take the right action in the right direction in the right time.

The correlation figure I do not think can be said. It depends on factors involved such as the degree of laterality, age, impatience etc.

Acting, speaking, playing an instrument, singing, moving in front of a camera, tennis, ballet..

I certainly have sometimes this kind of skill when waiting at the underground, though only when I'm not extremely sleepy (which is my usual situation).
So, if I understand well, you believe that left-handed people:
Either, due to be a relative minority, they are usually more comfortable with a direction different than the vast majority of other people, so when a left-handed person chooses a side, this is usually the opposite than what the other people choose, thus they have more space and comfort in their choices.
Or that a left-handed person's brain functions in a more exact way that the average right-handed person's brain?
I've heard the second proposition quite often and I tend to disagree with it. Though the first one is usually the case for me, I'll typically choose to sit against the wall on my right, enter through a door by the right side.

 

[elfinchilde]

I'll record something when I get home for you, a song for a wildcat. It'll be poor playing, but it'll be for you. Perhaps a duet with elfie, if she will

hehehehehee. Siiiiisssterrrr... wildcat would dearly love to hear us play a duet.... *psst, wildcat, will record it for you when we're back!*

ENTPs. you can never win them. they know your exact soft spot to hit.

yea ok. Shall record a duet for you when we get back. As with us in real life, i being moonlight, she being sunlight, i hold the constancy of the bass line, she holds the brightness of the running melody. You need both to make a song sing.

psst. she always gets the melody to play...predominantly because she can never keep time.

 

[wildcat]

I certainly have sometimes this kind of skill when waiting at the underground, though only when I'm not extremely sleepy (which is my usual situation).
So, if I understand well, you believe that left-handed people:
Either, due to be a relative minority, they are usually more comfortable with a direction different than the vast majority of other people, so when a left-handed person chooses a side, this is usually the opposite than what the other people choose, thus they have more space and comfort in their choices.
Or that a left-handed person's brain functions in a more exact way that the average right-handed person's brain?
I've heard the second proposition quite often and I tend to disagree with it. Though the first one is usually the case for me, I'll typically choose to sit against the wall on my right, enter through a door by the right side.

It is not about right handedness or about left handedness.
Laterality is a lot more complex.

I used the phenomena as an illustration only.
There is a correlation.
A figure if you please.

Yes.. Opposite of what other people choose.. to avoid the throng.. is a part of the deal.
This is the motive.

The skill is the intuitive mathematical spatial ability.
I knew you have it. Even if half asleep you are a lot better in it.. than the majority of the people could ever be..

I see you waiting the tranie at your underground station, half asleep.
You walk leisurely along the approaching train. When it stops you are one of the first people to enter.
There is no one in the vicinity.
You are never hasty.
You always find a seat.

It is not about exactitude.
Nor it is about left handedness.

 

[white]

psst. she always gets the melody to play...predominantly because she can never keep time.

*meh*.

I do keep time. Just not your time.

 

[nightning]

*meh*.

I do keep time. Just not your time.

Aelan's on tempo rubato

Duet would be nice. *nods head*

 

[dane]

I do not know music intimately.
But something without silence in between - YouTube - Schindler's list

not the whole piece. a fragment would suffice. the 15th to 25th second, when the violin first speaks, then draw breath.

Is there silence in between? Silence - no notes. a nothingness, as defined in that slimmest slice of time discernible. (can music exist without time? i am confused. you need time to give an order, a structure? like a blank canvas on which you can draw)

silence as a 0. x as a note.
0-x-x-x-x-x-x-0-x-x-x-x-0 etc.
and time.

0 is as much of a note as x in that sense?

but in 10-25sec its a permutation of Xs. different Xs, as in different notes.
x1-x2-x3.
No silence, but plenty of inflections.

The inflections of notes. Is that music?

if churchill had a wheeze everytime he pauses to breathe. and because he cannot stop breathing, there can be no silence.
"blah-blah-blah-great-speechwhezeeeeblah-blah-blah-great-speechwheeeeeezeblah-blah-blah"
no silence, but inflections. does that make him less of an orator?

So the truly great pieces need not have silence. Just movement.
A protracted note - viscous as silence.
Protracted silence - viscous as a note.
Movement - the dance of light feet, flight of patterns. Beauty taking form.
One cannot see in absolute light or darkness. Beauty takes the form of shadows.
Chain the inflections, and one has a picture.



Why is time or music not a flow?
Edit: because, of that slimmest slice of time, discernible?!

 

[dane]

Ok bad example. He can hold his breath. But you get my point.

 

[Night]

A lesson in form.

Hear the notes that aren't being played; the rhythms that abrupt into soft repetition as a result.

One of my absolute favorites.