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A Somber Joke
#2900942 10/16/19 04:13 PM
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I haven't touched my piano for several months.
The work I was doing , but now am not, had left me burned at the end of the week , or beginning which ever way you think.
In my mind, the piano sits there old and dusty. in an old room, falling apart un-played...
Sort of how the past tainted by subsequent events , affects the mind's memory, it will color all it contains.
Yet, ... I can't claim any specific reason.
Just a sense of stagnancy...of the "now".
And, a loss of how to move ahead and start again.
Playing only seems to place me in a time past, to old memories that are tainted by a newer past, now gone...their marks I'm not sure of.
The early reasons better left to a joke at a bar, that no longer have wind.
But , the more somber joke is, I could be mistaken.
So it sits there.... waiting.
While I wonder the spur.
And... why I don't care when a bar or pub is around the corner for a drink.
Lol, maybe others know the answer...




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Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2900949 10/16/19 04:26 PM
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Originally Posted by piano_primo_1
I haven't touched my piano for several months.
The work I was doing , but now am not, had left me burned at the end of the week , or beginning which ever way you think.
In my mind, the piano sits there old and dusty. in an old room, falling apart un-played...
Sort of how the past tainted by subsequent events , affects the mind's memory, it will color all it contains.
Yet, ... I can't claim any specific reason.
Just a sense of stagnancy...of the "now".
And, a loss of how to move ahead and start again.
Playing only seems to place me in a time past, to old memories that are tainted by a newer past, now gone...their marks I'm not sure of.
The early reasons better left to a joke at a bar, that no longer have wind.
But , the more somber joke is, I could be mistaken.
So it sits there.... waiting.
While I wonder the spur.
And... why I don't care when a bar or pub is around the corner for a drink.
Lol, maybe others know the answer...

The entire tone and feel of what you wrote reminds me of T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock:
Quote
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
BY T. S. ELIOT

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

...especially the last few stanzas starting from "I grow old ..." Have you tried your hand at poetry? You might consider it. You certainly have a way of making your words "atmospheric." smile


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"Discipline is more reliable than motivation." -by a contributor on Reddit r/piano
"Success is 10% inspiration, and 90% perspiration." -by some other wise person
"Pianoteq manages to keep it all together yet simultaneously also go in all directions; like a quantum particle entangled with an unknown and spooky parallel universe simply waiting to be discovered." -by Pete14
Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901035 10/16/19 09:53 PM
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One student, in response to an assignment regarding the theme of J Alfred Prufrock wrote, "Why don't we go upstairs for a quickie?"

Back to the OP, if the piano is "old and dusty," wipe it off with a cloth and call the tuner, if it is in an "old room," hire a painter and buy a lamp, if it is "falling apart" you'd better make sure that the tuner is qualified as a tech as well. If you take care of these things, the "un-played" part will go away on its own. If after all that, you still don't want to play, then find a past time you like and sell the piano to support your new hobby.


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Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901064 10/17/19 02:13 AM
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Primo
I’m so sorry to hear that you are going through a tough emotional time. Does it help to know that you are not alone? It has happened to me, and I’m sure others here, where life seemed overwhelming and there was little interest in the things I loved. I just substituted excessive sleep rather than the drinking you are doing.

You might try just sitting down at the piano—- not to practice but just to play a few minutes of music you love. Go take a walk outside rather than going to a bar. Talk to a sympathetic ear—— whether it be a friend or a professional. Things are tough now for whatever reason you are not sharing but you can find a way to work through it. Please!

I wish for you the best!

Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901087 10/17/19 03:38 AM
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Originally Posted by piano_primo_1
Lol, maybe others know the answer...

I didn't mean to sound clinical in comparing what you wrote to a poem. I recognise it comes from a place deep within you. But that where the best poetry can also come, when some one feels something very deeply and that feeling, expressed, resonates with all around. I certainly feel it from what you've said, which is why I mentioned Prufrock, which has a similar "feel."

And when felt, of course those around, including me feel sympathy. Maybe you've already heard this, but let me add my voice then - you seem depressed, perhaps clinically so. Loss of interest in things that previously interested you, and the various other feelings you have suggest this. I've certainly been there, may be there myself even now.

Something I always have trouble with myself is turning to others for help when I'm in the state you are in. Are you able to find someone to talk to about your feelings? A professional? Perhaps a service covered by your employer or your health benefits? It might be helpful to talk through your feelings with a professional and get a take from a third party who can really assess the totality of everything that you feel and is happening in your life and give you feedback.


[Linked Image]
across the stone, deathless piano performances

"Discipline is more reliable than motivation." -by a contributor on Reddit r/piano
"Success is 10% inspiration, and 90% perspiration." -by some other wise person
"Pianoteq manages to keep it all together yet simultaneously also go in all directions; like a quantum particle entangled with an unknown and spooky parallel universe simply waiting to be discovered." -by Pete14
Re: A Somber Joke
Tyrone Slothrop #2901109 10/17/19 05:22 AM
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Originally Posted by Tyrone Slothrop
Originally Posted by piano_primo_1
Lol, maybe others know the answer...



And when felt, of course those around, including me feel sympathy. Maybe you've already heard this, but let me add my voice then - you seem depressed, perhaps clinically so. Loss of interest in things that previously interested you, and the various other feelings you have suggest this. I've certainly been there, may be there myself even now.

Something I always have trouble with myself is turning to others for help when I'm in the state you are in. Are you able to find someone to talk to about your feelings? A professional? Perhaps a service covered by your employer or your health benefits? It might be helpful to talk through your feelings with a professional and get a take from a third party who can really assess the totality of everything that you feel and is happening in your life and give you feedback.


I'm certain you're right. Just re-reading this makes me realize the mind set I had/have, which is gloomy and out of proportion. (too past focused)
With that in mind, I'll gain perspective . This was helpful , at the least in getting an insight by what I wrote and that others sometimes feel the same. I'm grateful for the honesty.
One other aspect that is uplifting is that I can express myself in a forum, and get feedback .
So,... thank you.






Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901114 10/17/19 05:39 AM
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Specifically, I didn't realize I was so past focused, which is a tell tale of the blues.
Go figure.....hmmm.
But this was amazingly cool to figure this out this way.
I know "cognitive therapy" is free and effective.
Believe it or not I feel somewhat better, or hopeful.

Last edited by piano_primo_1; 10/17/19 05:45 AM.



Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901116 10/17/19 05:58 AM
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Expressing ones thoughts to somebody else will often put them in a new perspective. While they just churn around in your head, they never come to any conclusion, just keep churning. Been there done that.
Some times, just expressing out loud (or in writing) what's nagging, can change that vicious circle. Looking at it 'out' can make it seem a lot less troublesome.
I've just come back from over 2 years of not playing, I know how hard it can be to get back on the bench, no matter the reason one stopped in the first place.
I hope you will feel better soon, and get back to your piano. I'm pretty sure that playing again will help your frame of mind as well.


[Linked Image]XXXVII-XXXVIII
I pray, that tomorrow I may strive to be a little better than I am today - and, on behalf of everybody else, I give thanks for headphones.
Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901888 10/19/19 12:06 AM
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Thanks for the responses.
I noticed also in my post I wrote "In my mind, the piano sits there old and dusty. in an old room, falling apart un-played.."
Well, I have a digital , so some facets of that statement are impossible, others not, because my room does need a paint job.
I just didn't realize one could "project" onto an inanimate object !
It helped to see I was doing that very thing.
But that's what relationships, .... theater, and a lot of other aspects of life are about. I guess it's best to realize when you do it.

So, to more practical things... I was going to start big with "Angel " by Sarah McLaughlin, maybe like a emotively cathartic kind of tune, but it's too hard of a piece after not playing for 7 mos.
So I'll pick maybe a Bach intermediate , or easier ... I don't know... but at the least , the stagnant aspect has some movement.




Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2901891 10/19/19 12:26 AM
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If you're just stuck in a rut, it could just be that you need to feel you can achieve something to get things moving again. Set yourself small but manageable goals to start with e.g. "Today I'll look at the first four bars and see how it goes.".

My philosophy is: Big goals for inspiration, small ones to get you to sit at the piano.

I'm not qualified to advise you, but if you are depressed, you can get help to make you feel better.

Sometimes it's just too easy to get weighed down by the past.

Re: A Somber Joke
piano_primo #2902186 10/19/19 10:35 PM
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Sometimes, in a dark mood - it is good to play something which reflects that mood. And maybe after that, you might feel more inclined to move to something a bit more cheery. But - we're all different.

Hope your piano is a joy to you again one day.


Alan from Queensland, Australia (and Clara - my Grotrian Concert & Allen Organ (CF-17a)).

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