On Frescobaldi

Apparently, I'll be writing about composers here (in addition, I hope, to other things), but my subject matter doesn't matter so much, since I'm the only one who knows I'm here. I'm supposed to be writing a paper on Frescobaldi right now - actually, ideally I'd have already written it, and now I'd be revising it - but instead I don't really have the first word down. It's due in less than 48 hours. Why haven't I written anything?

1) I don't really care that much
2) The format - the academic paper format - seems to be difficult for me right now. I know it's something I have to learn to do, and I feel as though I've been able to do it sometimes, but now isn't one of them. Now would be a damn good time to figure it out.
3) I'm distracted by things that have nothing to do with the work I'm meant to be doing.

Going back to #2, though, I think the format is part of my problem, not just an excuse. (It's probably both). I wrote a paper about six months ago that was personal and non-academic, though for a seminar setting, and I felt so much more expressive and so much more able to articulate what was important, find a tone that worked, and synthesize not only my own ideas and experience, but the secondary materials I was working with as well.

So that's a possibility, for a draft at least: to write the first draft as though I'm writing in a different style. Headings make a big difference to me! I hope it helps. This is so boring and so stilted - even here, even with nothing at stake - that I can't believe I used to think I had a way with words.

There are other factors, like the distractions (they are welcome, but would be easy to think only about them), and the end of the
academic year, and generally indifference, but the fact is, I should be writing better and thinking more clearly here at the end of year 1 in a doctoral program, and the opposite seems to be true. So - and this is part of the purpose of practice, both in theory and practice - at least now I have An Idea. From there I like to think I can get somewhere.

The theory and practice of practice

Discipline, discipline. I keep telling myself I'm going to do things differently, do things better, by which I guess I mean I'm going to work harder. What would that look like?

For one thing, I'd be reading more and writing more, and spending less time watching (bad) TV on Netflix. I don't know at the moment what I want to write about - I mean, I know what I HAVE to write about, I have to write about a Frescobaldi aria and I have to write about this Golijov piece, and both projects are to some degree of my own choosing, but I don't feel like doing either of them. The Frescobaldi because, while I like listening to it, I don't care too terribly much about how it works, and because - if I'm being a little more honest - I'm worried I don't really KNOW how it works. The Golijov I'm reluctant to work on because I don't think I can pull it off. I'm dealing with ideas that are new to me, and I'm dealing with a score, and I'm trying to synthesize the ideas and apply them to the score, and wow - that's probably all doable, but to do it and make it read well, make it read the way I imagine it, is another thing. So, what to do?

I've never been a facile writer, but my end products have usually been better than they have lately. I wrote a paper in the fall that I liked, but it was - stylistically and otherwise - far removed from usual academic practice. So I have to spend more time putting words on the page (the screen) and spend more time putting words into my head, preferably words that someone took care with, preferably words that might become a model for clarity in complexity, preferably words that tell a story, whether they're part of an actual narrative or not. I used to be a better reader, and thus a better writer. What I'm looking for, and occasionally will do for now, is the feeling that comes when one has been working on/with an idea for a while and it starts to seem as though the parts are self-synthesizing, reaching outward on their own, reflecting bigger ideas; when the project gains its own momentum, I guess. Those are things that take practice, which is why I'm here.

I'm looking for those moments, and at this moment, I'm in constant verbal awkwardness, reluctance, laziness, recalcitrance (that for sure). I don't think my vocabulary has grown by a single word in months.

I'm frustrated with my habits, in other words. In those exact words. Which is to say, I'm frustrated with myself. So I'm going to work here. I'm going to work things out here. I'll talk about work, academic and otherwise; I'll talk about illness, most likely; I'll talk about the wonder and disaster and brilliance of Los Angeles; probably I'll talk about my motorcycle. Maybe I'll talk about women. Whatever! But I'll be here. And I'll be talking about things I've read, which means I should probably read something. Till next time.