Slow-mo practice is so …

… clearing of the mind, productive, reliable, useful …

… boring as hell.

It’s almost hard to trust it, because it’s almost like what I thought practice was as a kid — a way to just do something and have it get better by magic. Now, I get the neuro-wah-wah behind slow practice, but it still seems like magic on some level. I’ve had the experience of playing something painfully slowly with total focus a few times and suddenly experienced mega-leaps in my ability to play it. That’s exactly what it’s supposed to do, but it still somehow strikes me as mysterious joo-joo on some level, like those times when you’ll have a flying dream and it will suddenly feel incredibly self-evident that if you just have the right attitude and hold your body in the right way, you start to float and then swim in mid-air or fly. Well, of course!

Magic.

Now in a dream, there’s no voice of reason that tells you, “You’re going to wind up on the floor, you.” In waking life though, there is. And I need a way to shut it up.

I also have to keep a lid on the power in my left hand again, or else I end up in a sort of arms race (*hyuk hyuk I said arms race* <—- points at the pun) where my left hand starts drowning out the right, and then I have to pound harder on that side, so my left arm responds by getting heavier, and pretty soon I'm exhausting myself and it all sounds like a mortar barrage. How many f's are in fortississississimo anyway? I think that's another thing I need to pay attention to with the Magic Joo-Joo Slow-Motion Practice™, just letting myself occasionally play something pianissimo and presto at the same time.

Advertisements