Love, actually

It's been a while since I posted here. It's been a while since I played. Work is very busy. The fan has been having a rough time these last few months. You'd think music would be a solace in all this, but our routines are upset so that finding time to play is difficult, and I've not often been in the mood. I'm feeling bad about leaving the blog, and thinking of drawing a line under it as I always hate it when blogs I follow fizzle out.

So I've been pondering last posts (and have just realised that Last Post would have been the ideal post title!) and how to, as it were, end it all, and my musings have been melancholy as farewells so often are.

Then this evening I've played again and I've thought how much I love this, how much my pipes have brought me. In a way being able to play together has brought the fan and I closer together. I've enjoyed - and continue to enjoy - the community of playing with others. I've enjoyed the blogging - this will be post 609, with two in draft that never got published. I've played for 6 years: Morag, the poor neglected lass, is 6 years old. The Monkey I've had for about 3 and half years which has coincided, I think, with my piping coming on in great strides. I've shaken off stage fright, memorised tunes, put sets together. I've read about piping, and Scotland. I've discovered whole swathes of folk music I never knew existed. I've done so much and I've learned so much and despite the whinges I have loved it. I do love it, in fact. I love the Monkey, I love piping, I love being a piper. And I feel that despite this momentary lull I can go out on a high, and it's not the end, only the end of the beginning.

If you have been on my journey with me, thank you. I'm sorry to leave you, and this blog, but please know that in an enchanted place at the top of the forest a girl and her pipes will always be playing.

Goodbye.

Aft agley

Things don't always turn out as you expect. I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to play on Saturday, day 7 of the pop-up. But that was fine, because Sunday was the session and I knew I'd be playing then. Except I didn't - I felt under the weather and the fan went out leaving me to mope on the sofa.

Of course, unexpected changes of plan aren't always bad.

Curioser and curioser

These are things for which I have no explanation.

Today, despite strapping in as usual, I cannot keep my pipes in place: drones slips down over my bust, bellows slip down my elbow, and everything feels as thought it is heading towards the floor. My fingers, way too tight on the chanter, so I feel I am prising them away for each note, suddenly hit that soft perfection whee they bounce effortlessly. Despite all this I get the buzz....

I'm also at a loss to know why the version of The Road to the Isles or Burning Sands of Egypt printed in The Piper's Delight is described as being "as arranged for the pipes." It's a pipe tune, written for pipes, so how can it be "arranged" for pipes?

Less mysterious, but equally irritating, has been my failure to find a video of pipes playing The Braemar Gathering. Youtube of course just finds me videos of pipes playing at the Braemar Gathering. Luckily, I remembered that it's on Even in the Rain. 

Ghost in the machine

Of course, having decided that the buzz is simply the result of a certain level of pressure I played around with bag, bellows and elbows in the hope of finding that perfect point. I could't find it.

Not only could I not find it, I suffered from the opposite of the buzz - a thing so awful that it has no name. It feels as though everything is flat - not musically flat, but dampened and dulled like a grey day or a really drab shade of brown. The sound seems to lack any vibrancy, is almost muffled, and the chanter feels lifeless in my hands. After a while things improved, but whether that was to do with the reed warming up, my fingers warming up (it has turned cold here rather suddenly), or a change in pressure I don't know.

Something else I thought I understood the workings of is my musical memory. It only takes me a handful of play throughs to pick up a simple two parter. That may be generally true, but it doesn't work for Isles, which I play over and round and the moment I stop I can neither hear, see, nor hum a single bar.

I've been playing Flanders slowly and plainly with only the necessary graces (I think, although other may creep in if my fingers feel so inclined) but listening to the rather more ornate, and rather wistfully lovely, version of Mr Macleod I'm wondering if that needs to change.

Where do you go to, my lovely

First day back at work after a week away was a busy one, with the usual email avalanche and three meetings that weren't in my diary when I went away, two of them placed so as to wipe out the chance for anything but the briefest of lunch breaks. Nevertheless I felt reasonably upbeat, humming tunes to myself through the day.

It occurs to me that I haven't had tunes in my head of late. I don't know why, and rather like swallows I don't think I noticed them going, but I did notice when they came back again.

The tunes in my head needed to be played, which gave me a spur for my week of playing. I played a couple of tunes, shifted the bag to make it more comfortable, and suddenly got the buzz. I played through three tunes, not wanting to stop in case I lost it. But the bag got less comfortable, I had to shift it an inch...and the buzz vanished.

I kept on playing, anxiously checking to see if I could perhaps almost, sorta, kinda feel the buzz...but I think it's like being in love: you know when you are and if you have to ask then you aren't. Given that it came and went I can only assume that, rather prosaically, the buzz is linked to pressure levels, but I only know that I had it once and then lost it.

Pop-up piping practice

I've been thinking about getting back to playing, and playing regularly. We've just been away for a week, so of course I've played nothing at all until this evening. It went well today. I played for over an hour, everything was reasonably comfortable, I had good, even pressure in the bag, my fingers wre reasonable nimble. I played tunes I know and mostly had few problems with them. I ran through a pile of tunes, mostly sight reading things I have heard, things I used to play and never nail down, and The Road to the Isles (aka The Bens of Jura, among other aliases), just because it was there in the book and the fan had mentioned it recently.

You'd think that, considering how well everything went, I would have got the buzz, but there was no sign of it.

But it's the session (again!) at the weekend, and I need to get back into practice, and somehow a whole month is too much to commit to for daily playing. So my plan is that I do a pop-up practice and play every day for week from time to time, and hopefully least monthly, with the sessions there to remind me.

Goldilocks

I left my office one day last week and got half way to the car before I realised that I was still wearing my office shoes and that my driving shoes were still tucked under my desk. I decided I'd drive home in my office shoes, which that day were a reasonably sensible court shoe, with neither a very high nor very thin and fragile heel. They were, however, just a bit higher than my driving shoes, high enough to amend the angle at which my ankle rests, and to alter the angles needed in my foot on the pedal.

I didn't feel comfortable at all, so the next day I drove into work in a pair of flat pumps. The lack of heel was fine, but somehow the soles were quite slippery, and I didn't feel comfortable at all. I was certainly glad to get back to my driving shoes.

I do worry, however, that the only shoes I can drive in are my driving shoes. They aren't proper driving shoes. I normally just downgrade my oldest and tattiest pair of shoes to the role. The current pair of mid-height black courts replaced a pair of brown mock snake skin courts a few years back. I've had heels and soles replaced at least twice, but they are on their last legs. I'm going to have to adjust to a different pair of shoes. It's either that or give up driving!

I'm feeling like that with my pipes at present. I'm going through one of those periods when I can't quite get comfortable. It's not as bad as things got before I shortened the tubing, but it's bad enought to produce aches and twinges in shoulder, elbow and neck. I find myself feeling that in order to get things just right, or at least better, I have to be wearing certain things. Some are reasonably practical. If I am sitting down to play the chanter sits between my knees so a short, straight skirt isn't much use. But I've convinced myself that even the thinnest jumper means that the bellows strap for my elbow won't fit, but the top I do wear must have long sleeves so that the strap doesn't pinch. And, as previously discussed, I have to be neither too hot nor too cold. 

The most irritating thing is that none of these issues (short skirts aside) seem to either bother me or make any difference at all in a session, but playing at home I invariably change clothing or adjust the temperature, or abandon because of incorrect clothing or temperature.

Thankfully, my footwear doesn't appear to affect  my piping at all.