New Life
I know; there are a thousand or more churches with the name "New Life". That's not what I am talking about. I want to talk about what it means to find yourself in a situation that literally makes you feel like an ingredient has been added, and it opens you up to a completely new kind of life.
I'm talking about music in particular. Any time you add new elements to the old, it produces new life; musically. My way of viewing the group setting is through a wide lens. I love to improv (jam) with random people. Achieving something congruent with complete strangers is a feeling that I will describe; maybe.
A group of five people sit down at a conference table. One member puts a piece of paper on the table that has a short line drawn on it in pencil. The others observe the line, then pull their instruments out. One may have a red colored pencil, one a heavy black marker. (some musicians may use this as a muse; for the vapors.) These two turn their gaze toward the paper with instruments in hand, and begin writing or drawing around the simple, gray line.
The fourth member brought a baby blue crayon. Even though it is the off brand, he draws as if he is holding one of the world's finest pens. He is stretching himself beyond his ability to show everyone at the table that he is good enough to share the page. He colors furiously, and covers an increasingly large area in order to "flex his muscles".
The fifth member, and possibly the one to lead, brings a watercolor set with two brushes. The watercolors are like these. Though he may have seven colors at his disposal, his Achilles heel is quickly uncovered; he has no water. He has no choice now, but to improvise. The only way to get these colors activated is to find asource of clear liquid. The original artist has an empty beer can, so everyone unanimously decides to spit in the can until there is enough to dilute the paints to life.
After having worked together, the group can now observe what they have created. It doesn't look like anything but chiken scratch, but it feels like a great composition after everyone has added their part. They have a feeling that they can re-draw the picture again and again until they have something. It only has to be good enough that when you send the document off into the world, they stare at it and wonder about the potential of these starving artists. It is both a rush of adrenaline, and a way to sit back and say, "We can chill now; they got the message."
I'm talking about music in particular. Any time you add new elements to the old, it produces new life; musically. My way of viewing the group setting is through a wide lens. I love to improv (jam) with random people. Achieving something congruent with complete strangers is a feeling that I will describe; maybe.
A group of five people sit down at a conference table. One member puts a piece of paper on the table that has a short line drawn on it in pencil. The others observe the line, then pull their instruments out. One may have a red colored pencil, one a heavy black marker. (some musicians may use this as a muse; for the vapors.) These two turn their gaze toward the paper with instruments in hand, and begin writing or drawing around the simple, gray line.
The fourth member brought a baby blue crayon. Even though it is the off brand, he draws as if he is holding one of the world's finest pens. He is stretching himself beyond his ability to show everyone at the table that he is good enough to share the page. He colors furiously, and covers an increasingly large area in order to "flex his muscles".
The fifth member, and possibly the one to lead, brings a watercolor set with two brushes. The watercolors are like these. Though he may have seven colors at his disposal, his Achilles heel is quickly uncovered; he has no water. He has no choice now, but to improvise. The only way to get these colors activated is to find asource of clear liquid. The original artist has an empty beer can, so everyone unanimously decides to spit in the can until there is enough to dilute the paints to life.
After having worked together, the group can now observe what they have created. It doesn't look like anything but chiken scratch, but it feels like a great composition after everyone has added their part. They have a feeling that they can re-draw the picture again and again until they have something. It only has to be good enough that when you send the document off into the world, they stare at it and wonder about the potential of these starving artists. It is both a rush of adrenaline, and a way to sit back and say, "We can chill now; they got the message."
Comments
Post a Comment