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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

I heard it said that it takes 10,000 hours of deliberate effort to develop accomplishment at something.  Ashley says running the Elton John catalogue does not constitute as productive practice.  Specifically, it takes 10,000 hours of placing oneself at the edge of current ability.  If she doesn’t want to hear Elton then it’s going to be diatonic scale exercises, inversions, arpeggios and lots of finger burnouts.  Choppy etudes maybe,  or “Czerny” The Art of Finger Dexterity.  Ben Folds played the drums first.  Billy Joel was a boxer.

If Ashley and are both at work, it requires his and her headphones.  I run distressing dissonances up and down the keyboard and she listens to our pleasant itunes collection.  The dog sleeps in the chair.  We pummel in collusion of pigment and resonance.  I pause for more coffee, my ears discharging from tension, I bring her tea.  She has paint in her hair.  It is a silent gesture and I go upstairs back into the fight.

live at Sapphire, Knoxville

Moments linger like door frames to adjoin difficult harmonies.  Deconstructed scales progress along a continuum of mathematical nonsense. Somewhere in the fray is Miles Davis, choosing his notes more carefully than writers of presidential speeches.  I want to be able to stand in or out, but hit the right note when I mean to.

Best in Show at the Arts in the Airport Exhibition

 

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