The fourth in a series of Tuesday improvisations.
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The second in a series of Tuesday improvisation games.
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From spill to overflow.
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A chord taken from The Cause Of Your Calluses, and my clock as a metronome. I only recorded one take: the lyrics and melody were improvised, and I treated the performance like a meditation.
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An ode to dreaming, recorded while the sun was setting.
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I was a little behind, so I caught up with a few improvisations inspired by dreaming, wishing and wasting time. These are three things I've been doing a lot of recently.
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Part three: jugs, water and light.
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Part II. More light play.
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This was where I decided to take a proper break. I think this video suggests that was a good idea.
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More on the growing up theme, with a very un-grown-up performance (although the next video trumps this one in terms of childish behaviour).
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In addition to writing about forests, my student and I were also working on the theme growing up. This was my little musing, filmed in the reflection of a photograph of myself taken right before I detoured into music.
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This one is connected to the previous piece through light-play. The text came from some exercises I did with one of my students, we were doing some timed writing exercises around the theme forest.
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The third between improvisation.
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The second between improvisation.
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Before I was interrupted with Migraine+Hives I had been working with the theme between, which I think came from piece #136. I never managed to work my research/writing up into a song, so I used that text for a series of improvisations. This is the first.
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So far in this project I haven't really been sick, but last week I crossed that hurdle. Since just before Easter I have been experiencing a mysterious case of hives every time I exercise. I have been pretty sedentary since they started, which is an easy habit to fall into when you're locked in a practice / teaching room all day with your instruments. In a burst of inspiration to get active I went out for a jog, and came home an allergic mess. As well as hives covering my entire body, my lips and tongue had swelled up, so I went to the emergency room in case of anaphylactic shock.
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This is yesterday's song. I didn't spend ages on it, but I did engage myself fully in the research, writing and recording process, which I must admit I haven't been doing recently. I'm perhaps regaining control over the project, and the other parts of my life too, and it feels very nice.
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A continuation from the previous day's wish. What would happen if I didn't write a song? Nothing, nothing at all. And nothing would happen if I wrote a bad one either, as this proves. I randomly bashed at the piano, and still lived to see another day.
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This one is something of a merrythought, and definitely a wish I would have made if I'd cooked a roast chicken and won the wish-end of the wishbone.
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From the previous day's gelatin to wishbone, dug out of a hot roast chicken. In my bone-related research I discovered that the wishbone used to be called a "merrythought", which is kind of nice.
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