metronome & scales, cont.

Got as far as C# minor scales today and once again undone on the contrary motion using 58, 1 beat per two notes. Maybe I was inventing rhythms of my own as mnemonic aids and lose it when I try to conform to the metronome.

sensory overload

Today I started doing minor scales in eighth notes at 60, trying to progress from doing them in quarter notes at 120 so that I could get a sense of rhythm not just tied to each note. I was instantly confused by the scales and realized that it was because I was doing them eyes open. I'm used to doing them eyes shut, and the additional information just disoriented me. It reminded me of the book I read about a particular remedy for blindness. The author was blinded by a chemical accident at age 4 (playing in shed with his sister) and some vehicle in the corner of his eye which prevents incursion of blood vessels was destroyed. The therapy was some sort of genetic therapy that permitted reconstruction of that vehicle. He described how he spoke with others who'd had it, some of whom had become depressed afterwards, and perhaps that's due to sensory overload that they couldn't manage. In his case he said that the moment he had the bandages removed, he was agog: how can people sit in this waiting room with this rug and not be astounded by the color? He found he had to learn how to incorporate his previous navigation strategies with his new sight because he couldn't just automatically triangulate, etc. But in his case it was successful, although the book ends with an indication that he was starting to experience a malignancy known to be a consequence of the treatment.

Anyway, with the scales at 60, I was doing ok until I got to the contrary motion on F#. I realized that I was using the sense of octave I get from individual counting to remember the scale and could not make the conversion to 2 notes/beat.

Lessons from the Little Printer from Hell

The very cheap HP 1600 that I bought last spring seemed, in its last throes, only able to print parts of things, as if it only had enough memory for a few paragraphs or portions of a picture. In its last illness, it ruined the spooler on my desktop and had designs on some of the keyboard functions of my laptop, so it's been tossed. I am so displeased that I can't even bring myself to afford it the dignity of a proper burial (i.e. try to return it for a refund). But I realized today that maybe there's a lesson in its behavior, if I can call it that. Maybe the reason I halt in confusion after the ends of measures is that I don't have enough storage space to recall and prepare the next. I hope the metronome will push me in spite of myself.