Letting the Notes Fall

Once the scales have been played—the ax has been sharpened, the clean stacks of paper neatly arranged beside the pen, each and every socket of the socket set placed neatly in order of size—

Once the artist has gone through the paces only they know, shared with all others willing to shoulder the burden of being a professional, the warm up, the practice, the tribute paid to the muse—

Something changes. A change the artist knows well—the amateur, who we love, must try and strive and work and sweat to impose the tiniest fraction of will on their instrument, getting their hand to bend into an F chord, making the shape of a nose appear on the paper.

But now, with their dues paid, the artist does something more akin to watching.

Sitting back, completely in tune, letting the tools do what the tools know, playing the notes they want to play, working and shaping and honing and reducing until—well, until they’ve had their feel of bringing being into the world, and know it’s time to call it a day.

Thank you. Let’s have a great one.