At 11, I was supposed to go to Julliard music school. Right near the entry time, I bowed out. I could see my future and I didn’t like it. Same time frame, I stopped a “Gifted Class” test when I realized it wasn’t for me. I love going in deep but quickly. I can’t free float. I need to stay tethered so long as I choose the tether.

At 11, I was [read full article]


I was disappointed at first that I was so close to norms, but in a way, that’s a good. It shows that I’m not excessively removed from humanity, that I can understand and relate and explain in ways that can be understood. It also says good things about humanity: That we may be far more creative than we are given credit for, that “that random average guy over there” may secretly have dreams of being a great musician or that puzzling out how to hold their household or business together requires as much creativity as you or I.

I was disappointed at [read full article]


I don’t think it’s anything special of me. It’s just easier for me to “do friends” online than off. Here, I’ll make analogies: Is a Pokemon player limited to Dunbar’s number or can they easily memorize 807 Pokemon * their abilities ^ their interactions with each other? Or: Can a musician know musical phrases from tens of thousands of songs? These big numbers are nothing special.

I don’t think it’s [read full article]


When I was 11, my mom took me to special piano lessons to get ready to apply for Julliard music school. I went to them, just sort of following along, did well, all the while imagining what going to that school and what a life as a professional musician might be like. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew I didn’t want it. Perfect practice makes perfect, getting constantly judged… So, after six months of special lessons I knew she couldn’t afford, nervous I’d disappoint her for wasting her money and time, I said that I didn’t want to go to that music school, bracing myself for anger. But, she said “ok” and that was that. To this day, I _still_ occasionally thank her that she listened to me when it mattered.

When I was 11, [read full article]


I went to a guidance counselor at a NJ college nearby when I was out of work, uncertain of future and stuck in what direction I wanted to go in. My friend and I had plans to do music. He was the production company and I was the first musician (piano). We made a ton of recordings. I was in my early 20s. My dilemma was “move towards computers or continue pursuing music?” I was good at both. For me, music was my cathartic more than passion but i was willing to pursue it as long as I could play my own improvisational music and I had that support to do it. Computers was a skill and a passion. Didn’t matter what the work was as long as there was a computer involved somehow, it was fine and I’d figure out what to do. Her advice: Decide between your vocation and your advocation. In short do both but keep them in proper categories. Took a lot of thought but I went with computers. In a sense it was sort of following my passion as I was more driven with computers than piano composition. It just so happened that in my case, what was practical was *also* my passion. But I’d give that same advice to others.

I went to a [read full article]


But you’re mapping the territory of the map with an metaphor   I mean strictly you’re right but Consider a switch to the participatory nature of music as a dialog between composer, musician and audience. The composer communicates to the musician by written music (like above). The written music is a visual performance. The musician communicates to the audience by the auditory.performance. How can the musician communicate this written performance to the audience? They might have to switch to performance art. Simply posting the music as above on a screen would work, or other forms of expression.

But you’re mapping the
[read full article]