Paradiddles

Ok, so I started out on paradiddles FIVE years ago--took on their challenge, their intricacies, their variations, their potential, but tonight, all that just flew out the window and it was like I was learning those diddles all over again. I spent serious time in the chasm with my sticks, a practice pad and a metronome. I have logged countless hours on my desk at work, wearing my fingers to the bone, playing those diddles. I worked on paradiddles the other night with my taiko class. I wrote a whole FREAKIN' song based on paradiddles. And tonight? When I am faced with paradiddles? It's like it was the first time.

Well, ok, it wasn't quite like the first time. But it was like I was facing the one thing that I had thought I had already conquered, only to be shocked that when confronted by it in a new context, all that training had gone out the window. Eye-opening, it was. Just makes me realize that you can't ever rest on your laurels.

Back to the chasm for me. Just got a whole new sheet of diddle exercises I haven't seen before. This should be good.

Productive Day!

Started the day out by doing the final stretch on the drum. After soaking the head overnight I brought it in and we started cranking. I asked Janet to come help me and my student since I had a feeling she would keep on cranking after the point where I thought we should fold. We did the whole getting on top of the drum thing:

We got some really great tension on that drum. We used a different hide than I've used in the past. I think the hide was thinner. Janet said maybe it was a fatter cow. A happier cow, I replied. It was a good stretch. 

We got some major tension on that baby. Janet kept saying one more crank. And we would crank. And in my head I was thinking, ok that's good, but then Janet would say, one more crank, and we'd crank. Gotta keep those risk-takers around! I think it's gonna sound good. The tacks came out nice and straight. We did a good job. Hurrah to my student because this was her first time heading a drum!

After that was rehearsal where we worked on finishing my song. I wrote a quick and dirty ending this past week, and have been studying some solo techniques. I am happy that I don't seem to have a problem soloing in six. It feels really natural. Maze really rocks. This is not an easy song. It's in six, and the patterns are kind of strange and Steve Reich-ish. They have taken it in stride and are really grooving along. This is not the sort of song that I envisioned my first song to be. I think it's really weird, but a little funky and groovy. I am happy.

Creating the End

Wow that sounds dramatic. 

No really, I am making an ending to my song. That's one of the last things that have been nagging me (and Janet too--to finish the song! Ha ha). Today has been all about listening. Listening to my teachers. Listening to songs. Listening to myself. I composed an ending that I can live with, but there is just one more element--my solo section--that I need to face up to. I hate writing solos. Or maybe that's being dramatic too. Let's just say that the process of writing my solos is treacherous. I just make it all too hard for myself. I try to be too fancy and too complicated. I always think great solos are really mysterious and difficult, but when you get right down and listen to people's solos, they're really just simple things. There must be something in their presentation that evokes all that mystery. I have a solid base to work with. I've been working with a wonderful teacher who teaches really great things, but also a lot of her lessons are by example.

When I first learned taiko, my teacher told us to hold back on asking questions during class. She asked us to wait until the end if we had a question, and that we ought to just watch and pay attention and try to figure out the answers for ourselves. I don't insist upon this with my students, but there are moments when I wish I could divide myself; there is one part of me that wants to share and to make everything as accessible as possible, and another side of me that wants them to go through the struggle because I believe that it is in the struggle that our greatest lessons are learned. There is something about being handed an answer that is not quite as gratifying as figuring it out for yourself.

No one is going to hand me this solo. My teacher has taught me phrases, has taught me how to count and divide time, and how to put it all together so the phrases fit in time. There have been innumerable lessons in a single class. It is my job as a student to take those lessons and put them together in my mind so that in the end what I have is not just a line of music to mimic, but a real understanding of the hows and whys of that music. When you understand the how and the why, you can take it and change it and make it your own.

I guess that's what solos are. They express the culmination of all your lessons and are moments that you take all that you have learned and speak it in your own way. 

Now I just need to figure out what I am going to say.

Practice Makes Perfect

It really really does! I wish I would practice more. I wish I had more time to practice. I wish we practiced more, and I wish that everyone would see how important, and how just a little practice every day could do a person wonders. I tell my students just to practice 10 minutes a day. Some of them do, and when they do, it totally shows. Today I had them do some 8 and 8's. Those are simple, simple exercises. I was happy that they didn't seem bored. They are deceptively easy. But really, when it comes down to it, the most important sort of practice for me is just working on my chops. I can play all sorts of patterns, but if I were to play paradiddles with a really experienced player, it would be immediately apparent that my basics are in need of a lot of attention. 

Today I snuck in and diddled and rolled and 8 & 8'ed before my classes. I need a lot of work. But on the other hand, it feels really good to just get in there and work on those basics. 

Practice, yo. 

Are We Rolling?

 . . . and we're back.

Yes, I'm back. 

First off, I got roped in to re-heading a drum, (get it? Roped in? get it?). No really. One of my students asked me to show her how to re-head a drum, and of course I am honored and pleased to show someone, especially someone with her enthusiasm, how to re-head. Plus I had told Janet earlier I would re-head one of her drums, so I am killing two birds with one stone. It also inspired me to finally consolidate my notes and thoughts into a clear, concise manual of drum re-heading. Last weekend I put together my notes and photographs and the best of what I can remember into a nice moleskine journal that I loaned my student. These notes are way more clearer than the notes I got, but I cherish the notes I got so much that I never want to let them go, though I guess one of these days I need to return them. I sent my student on a scavenger hunt of sorts, asking her to get the things that we need but that I didn't feel like spending the time searching for. I'm glad she's totally into it. She actually found 100 feet of manila. So this weekend we are going to do the first stretch.  I am also happy that I get to pass on what was given to me. When Janet gave me the opportunity to head my own drum I felt like someone was giving me this huge, wonderful gift that I could never repay. But sharing the knowledge I have accumulated along the way with my student makes me feel like I am one step closer to repaying back a debt I can never really repay. 

Last Friday Janet and I pulled tacks from one of her drums. It was very cathartic, pulling tacks with her. I think it was a moment that needed to happen for me. Just the two of us quietly working together on something we both enjoy. It just kind of happened. I was like, hey, I'm here, might as well start on this now. And she was like, ok, well I'm here too, let's figure out how to get these tacks out. The last month or two have been something of an internal struggle for me, and I don't want to go into all of that, but I needed that month to mentally check out and not be around much. I was sad and disappointed about things, and I realized that I just want to play taiko and be happy about it, and I had to figure out a way to be happy with it, and I figured it out, after quite a lot of soul searching and agonizing and moping. But I'm ok now. 

So cutting and pulling rawhide this weekend.  Sharing. Contributing. Passing stuff on. This is a good, positive thing--just the direction I need to be heading in, or re-heading in. (Get it? Re-heading? Get it?)

We're also building toward a new, big show in July. Oh boy, this will be the best one yet. We're going to be doing it solo, just Maze, with original new works. And one of those new works, I am proud to say, will be composed by me. I am so close. I just need to figure out an ending to tie all the loose ends together. Oh, and compose a solo, but, eh, you know me--I can figure that out. Janet was trying to find a way to substitute people in and out of the different pieces, like they do in basketball, but looks like I am in a lot of them. I don't mind, but had to plead my case to be taken out of Mokuyobi. I don't mind playing Mokuyobi, but I've struggled with my solo for the past 5 years, and if I don't have to think about that battle, then this makes my life easier. We'll see.

What else? Had Michaelle's class tonight. It wasn't easy. But in the middle of struggling through one of the patterns she was showing us (I was the only one who totally didn't get it!) I was like, hey, I like this struggle. I am so glad someone is pushing me and giving me things that are so difficult. I feel like as a teacher I am constantly trying to find ways to make sure that people who find things easy, have something that challenge them, and those who feel challenged get the encouragement and positive feedback they need to continue. It's all a balance. Michaelle's class is really great for me because I just get to kick back and let someone else figure it all out, while I have fun and learn things.  I totally appreciate all the effort she puts in to make sure that I, as a student, get the most out of her class. And everyone else too. She is a good teacher.

Oh, and Bay to Breakers, yo! I've been training for that. I ran 5 miles yesterday! I had taken a week off because of scheduling conflicts and I am proud that I could just jump right in with a long run without much protest from my body. My mind, on the other hand, tried to come up with all sorts of excuses, but in the end my body won out. I know that if I can just get my running clothes on and run my butt to the end of the block and back again, then I'm good. And once I can run past the 30 minute mark, all the protesting my body does goes away, and either things get numb, or my body and I just get used to the idea that we're gonna sweat and keep pushing until we're done. I need to get to the 70 minute mark before I'm totally happy. I got to 50 yesterday. I have until mid-May to get there. And even if I don't, I know that I will finish that race.

So things are going better for me. Busy, busy though. 

March was for moping. April is for getting my head back on and my heart in the right place. I've been sad, but need to find a way to be happy, or I'll never be happy with myself.

Sigh. It's not as dramatic as it sounds.