Sheer repetition can be a wonderful way to practice. It frees the mind to wander and forces the muscles to remember.
I've been watching House and playing chords to build my chops.
The show has an element of distraction in that the music is SO good and integral to the drama that is House, it draws me to play with it rather than working on the chords I am supposed to be learning.
When I first picked up a guitar in a serious fashion, it was 1969 and I played until my fingers bled. It didn't help that the guitar I was using had action set by the Devil, himself.
'Tambourine Man' being the song I learned at summer camp.
I will still play it now and again.
This day, I was at a musical partners home and we were working up a list of two sets of material.
Over and over we plowed through changes and songs. I was drenched with perspiration by the time we were done. Never mind he had the heat set to the mid seventies.
I haven't been able to figure out what it is about playing that is so strenuous.
I suspect it is passion.
The more I throw myself into something the more it is a workout, physically.
I think I have dropped at least ten pounds in the last two weeks.
I would think it a case of the Emperors New Clothes but my jeans are dropping from my waist. SO I know it must be real.
The other portions of my exercise regime do not evoke such a response. I walk and lift weights. I do breathe heavily when weight lifting but rarely sweat.
It's not the act of playing that is a workout. The guitar weighs less than seven pounds and I run about very little when playing. I do gyrate while playing. But no more than if I were dancing on the floor. And that never caused me to perspire so.
So I practice and try to make perfect.
No comments:
Post a Comment