Nans and the Nocturne When I was younger and first starting off playing the piano, both my grandmothers taught me various tricks, tips, do’s and don’ts of ivory tinkling. One grandmother taught me hymns and classical pieces, the other taught me blues and improvisation.
Well said, Bernadette and Nathan! I think when we compare ourselves to others we eventually tire of feeling hopelessly second-string, so we decide to take it to the other extreme and feel smugly superior. You have probably heard this type of behavior described as "an egomaniac with an inferiority complex." Both types of comparisons of course, make us feel terrible. I think that is because the cost of comparison is connection.
Anyhoodle, thanks for another stimulating post! It reminded me of the Zen parable where the moon wants to be the sun. Keith Knapp explains it like this, "How arrogant, the doubt will say, that we consider ourselves to be more than this one body, this one person. "
Loved reading about those precious memories with grandmothers. I have returned to this thought a few times: it might have actually been easier to enjoy the path when it was chosen for us. For instance, in the past when am you were going to take over the family farm or business. The restrictions placed on our lives are the constraints within which we can be creative. Once the world expands, its something we seem to be slowly learning to sort out and comprehend. This overwhelm can be good in the sense that there is so much to do with this life, but can also lead to despair when we become aware of our own limitations. The consequences of being born conscious. So many things to do and see and learn but so little time to spend
This is such an endearing read!! I think growth as an artist is v. challenging because it's human nature to compare ourselves and expect instant results. The lure of competitive glory and social media doesn't make things any easier. It's taken me a long time to just enjoy routines that feel simple and easy and to acknowledge its artistic merit...I tell myself work hard, train hard but enjoy the process like a child discovering it for the first time.
Well said, Bernadette and Nathan! I think when we compare ourselves to others we eventually tire of feeling hopelessly second-string, so we decide to take it to the other extreme and feel smugly superior. You have probably heard this type of behavior described as "an egomaniac with an inferiority complex." Both types of comparisons of course, make us feel terrible. I think that is because the cost of comparison is connection.
Anyhoodle, thanks for another stimulating post! It reminded me of the Zen parable where the moon wants to be the sun. Keith Knapp explains it like this, "How arrogant, the doubt will say, that we consider ourselves to be more than this one body, this one person. "
Loved reading about those precious memories with grandmothers. I have returned to this thought a few times: it might have actually been easier to enjoy the path when it was chosen for us. For instance, in the past when am you were going to take over the family farm or business. The restrictions placed on our lives are the constraints within which we can be creative. Once the world expands, its something we seem to be slowly learning to sort out and comprehend. This overwhelm can be good in the sense that there is so much to do with this life, but can also lead to despair when we become aware of our own limitations. The consequences of being born conscious. So many things to do and see and learn but so little time to spend
This is such an endearing read!! I think growth as an artist is v. challenging because it's human nature to compare ourselves and expect instant results. The lure of competitive glory and social media doesn't make things any easier. It's taken me a long time to just enjoy routines that feel simple and easy and to acknowledge its artistic merit...I tell myself work hard, train hard but enjoy the process like a child discovering it for the first time.
The irony - you did a lot of time wasting didn't you Nathan 😂😂😂pmsl living vicariously through someone more accomplished for nearly two years.