Alexander technique. Maybe that will be the ticket.

Tomorrow morning I've got an appointment with an Alexander teacher.

My first experience with Alexander Technique was when I took a masterclass with Ann LaBerge in 1989. She is also an Alexander teacher and that one lesson I had was really eye-opening. So when I was making my list of things I would try in order to treat my injury, Alexander Technique was definitely on the list.

Repetitive stress injuries are common in flute players (and all instrumental musicians). Mine is tendinitis. I suffered with it originally in my left forearm ("tennis elbow") and later on in my shoulder -- bicipital tendinitis. Various practitioners have treated it with prescription drugs, physical therapy, cortisone shots, Chinese herbs and acupuncture. All of them helped somewhat (except for the cortisone shots. Those were an unqualified bust). My forearm pain actually went away. But the shoulder continues to be a problem. I have had pain of some kind, from mild to severe, every time I've played the flute since 1988.

I now have a flute with an offset G key, which has been a goal of mine for years. It's taken the stress off my left arm that the inline flute keys of my old flute used to put on it. Now that the instrument is no longer in my way, I've got to make sure that I myself stop getting in my own way. I hope the Alexander lesson tomorrow gets me on the path.

He's so sweet with his jet-black stare...

A few weeks back somebody from the SFPD came on TV and warned the public not to feed the pigeons, because, he said, "they're taking over." And I came out onto the street from some building that day and there *did* seem to be more of them. That's really the kind of takeover though that I could get behind. It would be a liberation of sorts. Pigeons have such mellow energy. I think if the pigeons took over and marched in formation down the streets of San Francisco, I would stand on the sidewalk and wave my handkerchief.

On Polk Street I saw a pigeon who had lost a foot and was gimping around on the stump of his leg. I tried to target him with some pieces of granola bar. The others fought him for the food, of course. This went on for a little while and then all of a sudden, a homeless guy appeared beside me on my left. He seemed to come out of nowhere, and I wondered if maybe one of the pigeons, making use of some transformative powers we don't know yet that they have, had turned himself into a homeless guy...he said that he was really hungry, and that he hadn't eaten in three days. I was very impressed and gave him the whole granola bar.

I walked down to the corner and another woman shook her head at me and said, "You really shouldn't feed them." I wondered whether she meant pigeons, or homeless people.

The Nashville biosphere

I'm just now back from the NFA convention in Nashville. I thought last year's surroundings in Las Vegas were over the top but it was tame compared to this year's environment! The Gaylord Opryland Resort is a nine-acre self-contained complex under glass domes. It's all climate-controlled, so that you can walk around during the day feeling like you're outside, but you're not really, and you're protected from the hot and sticky weather outside. When the sun goes down it seems like they dial the air conditioning back a bit, maybe 15 degrees, so that it seems like nighttime, but you still don't have to wear a jacket.

There's a jungle planted in there. There are hundreds of tropical plants and lots of fountains, a river, lots of pools, and waterfalls. Everything is connected by a maze of paths and escalators and stairways. It's very easy to get lost and I did, a few times. It was SO Logan's Run.

There are restaurants and shops. Everything is hella expensive though, and there was very little I could eat. I ate a $4.00 bagel with cream cheese one morning. I didn't really buy much food, relying on the granola bars I brought from home, and using my $10.00 daily volunteer reimbursement to get a salad or equal for dinner.

Volunteering was fun. I threw myself into my duties as door monitor for several events. I shared a hotel room with three very nice women. Katie Zimmer was from Michigan, Carla Holtz was from Ohio, and Angela Heo was from Korea. She gave the Korean flute workshop which unfortunately I didn't get to go to because I had an early flight home Sunday morning.

I really enjoyed Camilla Hoitenga's concert, "Savage Aural Hotbed". I got to see Robert Dick unveil his Glissando Headjoint at the Brannen Brothers exhibitor showcase (yay!!!!). I liked Paul Edmund-Davies' rendition of the John Harbison flute concerto. Shannon Heaton's Celtic flute workshop was very very cool. So was the lecture/demonstration put on by Indian flute boy wonder Shashank.But now I'm back and it's time to readjust and get back on all the tasks that have been waiting for me to finish traveling. I've got the first set of recording sessions for Not Made of Stone set up for January 2005, and it's time to start rehearsing for those.

Fahrenheit 9/11 & Scotland the Brave

Regarding Michael Moore's movie, if you haven't seen it yet, you need to. TRUST me. :)

Now then, I just got back from a wonderful vacation in Scotland, which included Edinburgh, Aberdeen, Banff & Macduff, and the Orkneys. I was very much focused on ancient monuments...which is interesting because my album's going to be called Not Made of Stone, but I was intent on photographing things that were made of stone, in Scotland. I visited Rosslyn Chapel (mysteriously carved stone), 6 stone circles in Aberdeenshire, and 6 ancient monuments on West Mainland Orkney, including Skara Brae, Unstan Cairn, Maeshowe, the Standing Stones of Stenness, the Ring of Brogar, and Cuween Hill Chambered Cairn.

It was so moving finally to see Skara Brae, after writing my piece about it in 1995, and always hoping to see it. It's well cared for by Historic Scotland, but that gives it kind of an antiseptic, unreal quality, the way the grass is kept closely clipped, and the way it's surrounded by explanatory markers. I know it has to be done in order to preserve it. I really learned a lot, and there was a lot of energy to be sensed from the ruins themselves and from Skaill Bay. Skaill House, the home of the laird who build the seawall to protect Skara Brae after it was discovered in 1850, is right nearby and can be seen in the background of one of my photos.
The Ben Nevis & Glen Coe area was glorious to drive through. It's quite a thing how the mountains there look as imposing as anything we have in California, and yet when you look at the map, they're all only about 1,000 feet high! When I go back, I'm definitely staying in the Orkneys longer, plus longer stays in Banff/Macduff and Aberdeen. Those were the places I really connected with the most.Having only just gotten over that trip, I'm off early Wednesday morning for Nashville to attend the NFA convention. I'm not performing this year, just hangin' out and volunteering and hoping to sell a flute.

Disavowing humanity

Awhile back I wrote about being ashamed to be an American, because it meant atrocities were being committed in my name. Now, I'm almost ashamed to be human. When the aliens come, I'm gonna tell them I'm not human. I'm not one of those humans doing this.

This is old news in the animal rights community, of course. For decades those who fight for the rights of animals have known that these conditions exist and are commonplace in the factory farms that raise the animals that end up in restaurants and supermarkets. However, nobody wants to hear a bunch of tree-hugging hemp-wearing Green-voting pacifist vegans wail about the animals and the unspeakable things they go through. It's boring and histrionic and we would all rather have a nice bucket of KFC or a burger.

I am not, by the way, weeping and wringing my hands and begging all the people to GO TOWARD THE LIGHT! In case anybody reading this blog doesn't know this already, I am Wiccan. It is my job to know that one cannot light a candle without casting a shadow. I live by "an it harm none, do as thou wilt", but the pure expression of the Rede is as unattainable as any of the Christian teachings. One cannot live on this planet without doing harm. I don't eat meat, and have not done so for 14 years, but that doesn't mean I am not doing harm. The plants I eat are sentient and they had to die in order to become food for me. There's nothing I can do about that. I walk down the street knowing that with every step I end the lives of microscopic life forms. We all do. There is nothing we can do about that.

But when I am celebrating someone's birthday and the celebratory birthday meal has been arranged to happen at the Carrow's in Santa Rosa, I can rely on the fact that nobody at that restaurant concerned themselves about whether the eggs, comprising the veggie omelet which is the only thing on the menu I can eat, were free-range. Undoubtedly they are not, and I've gotta close my eyes and plug my ears and sing "la, la, la" to myself so as not to remember that the same chickens that are having their beaks cut off without anesthesia and are being thrown, stomped, and otherwise terrorized before their necks are wrung, laid the eggs that I am eating.
You folks out there who love your meat, or who are on your Atkins diet or whatever, rest assured that in my ideal universe, everybody gets to eat whatever they want. Really. Honestly. Including you. However, there's one condition: if you are gonna eat meat, you have to kill that animal yourself. That's the only sporting, honest thing to do. If you want that meat, you are going to have to kill that animal yourself. Surely you will welcome that task because you really, really want that burger.

If I'm willing to pull a carrot out of the ground and wash it off and eat it, then surely you are man or woman enough to take the life of the creature YOU wish to consume. Go right ahead; be my guest. Just don't allow a corrupt, polluting, morally twisted, politically connected and otherwise inexcusable agribusiness do it for you. That's got nothing to do with the circle of life.

Luggage Store Gallery

The Luggage Store Gallery is across the street from the Golden Gate Theater, where Hairspray is currently being performed. It's on Market Street at 6th Street, which is a rather, uh, intense neighborhood. Despite this, the gallery has been doing really well.

The gallery itself is up at the top of a steep double flight of stairs and musicians perform at the street end of the space in front of a row of tall windows. Organizers Rent Romus and Matt Davignon told me that normally, there's a big velvet curtain hanging in front of the windows, but that it was taken down recently and they don't know why. They hope it's coming back, since it helps make the space less live, and Rent has a noise show booked for the very near future.

Anyway, Zeke Talbot played first on detuned and prepared guitar, with some looping going on and singing along. He had something very haunting and disturbing going on, like a serial killer in a scary indie film, that I really appreciated. I went next along with Will and Jim, and Peter Nyboer was last with his laptop music. He also did a turntable improvisation that I really liked. We all had the street light and the Golden Gate Theater marquis in the background. Rent told me that he was grateful one of the two street lights was burnt out, because last time they had both been shining in behind the performers and that it was pretty blinding.

Celeste was there with a DAT recorder with which she recorded our set. She'll be transferring it to CD and I really hope it comes out well, because the music felt and sounded really good while we were doing it. You never know though if it will come across in a recording.

In other news Ben McAllister has posted sound files, photos, and commentary from Big Sur on his web site. You can see it at http://www.listenfaster.com/bigsur.shtml.

In other and even better news, I've been awarded a grant from the American Composers Forum's Subito fund. It will help me make my upcoming fourth CD, Not Made of Stone.