(no subject)
So I made a cake today, and I realized something. It's not that I do anything special to the things I make, it's not the just the way I mix or the fact that I like doing everything by hand that makes them taste so good. It's the fact that I stay and want to finish the job. When I bake, it's the only thing I want to be doing right in that second of time- there is no place that I'd rather be, nothing else I'd rather be doing, or anyone else that I'd rather see (even if I'm baking alone).
Playing music (not practicing, playing) is much the same way. Practicing is that tedious part of baking in which you have to combine all of the ingredients together. It's not an art, it's a practical science of shaping and mixing and accepting nothing but the best. Why? Because it's worth doing well- it's worth caring about. Performing is the part at the end where you get to eat the baked good- just a sample for me typically. Just to know that they turned out well, and then I can give to everyone around me... and that's the fun part. That's the part that makes everything else look like it was some sort of genius. It's the watching like a hawk and caring enough to do it well every time.
That's what my teacher is talking about, and I'm getting there. It always seems like he talks too much during coachings and lessons and the rest of my chamber ensemble wonders how we ever get anything done. My answer is because I care enough to listen to what he's saying and then do the practical work on my own. He doesn't need to sit there and listen to me practice- I can do that. Especially with all of the recording technology out there these days; I can listen on my own and shape it the way I think it should be shaped. His job is to take what I've done and show me another level to add to that. Not to change how I see the music, not to change what I want the music to be- but to unravel that next step. It's like when you have just tasted the best chocolate cake of your life when it was fresh from the oven. If you're into baking then you want to replicate it, and then make it your own. If you care enough then you struggle and stress and find a way to create your version of that wonderful cake. Then you want to strive and make everything else that you make that much better- not because they weren't good before, but because if you know the next step then it's worth the work to make it that much better.
And that's the way it should be with everything. If it's worth doing, then it's worth finding a way to make it that much better- it's worth the obsession and the frustration. The frustration (I can't believe I'm going to repeat what my teacher is saying already) is a sign that you know that it can be better and that you haven't matched your version of what "the best" is. The hardest part about this is the fact that it gets soooooo tiring, mentally (which ultimately turns into physical exhaustion). The question is, is the cake worth it? And that's the question each of us has to answer- is it worth it in the end?
Maybe that's why I chose music, it was the thing that always left me frustrated because I was never good enough. I'm still not, but the day will come when I can sample my playing and it'll be just the way I wanted it. It'll be perfection and that'll be the best part.
And all of this is in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
That really is the book that represents my life as it is now.