The art of practicing is in my bones. When you begin studying the violin at age four, the line between you and craft blurs for a lifetime. When I went to London after studying Arts Management at graduate school, I assumed I’d see the same rigor applied to the contemporary art world. This was London after all. A European cultural capital. But I did not see much striving for beauty, perfection, or even a nod to historic legacy. What I saw depressed me. I saw the subversion of beauty, imperfections not only overlooked but exalted, and the rich history of art trampled upon. Now, in my own growing writing life, I strive to return to the pleasure of practice I experienced as a violinist. I have few ideas about how to do this, but every day I try to make a little progress - that’s what this blog is all about. So I was so excited to read this from the book "Practicing: A Musicians Return to Music" by Glenn Kurtz:
“When you sit down to practice, however casually, you cast yourself as the hero and victim of your own myth. You will encounter obstacles; you will struggle, succeed, and struggle some more. The story of your practice weaves all this together, absorbing what is within you and making it productive. Because when you truly believe your story of practicing, it has the power to turn routine into a route, to resolve your discordant voices, and to transform the harshest, most intense disappointment into the very reason you continue.”
-Practicing: A Musicians Return to Music by Glenn Kurtz via Brian Pickings