Not so many years ago, this would have been an incomprehensible situation. If I was a master of anything, it was the art of invisibility: Moving through groups unnoticed, shunting undue attention, guarding intention, keeping secrets, operating within shadows. It becomes a strongly habitual mode of operating, affecting every experience, every encounter.
It was only this spring when I had the sense that we needed more music. I don't mean more concerts up the block at the Merriweather Post Pavilion, nor do I mean more offerings at the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall or the Lyric Opera House either--though all of those things are lovely. What I mean is that we need more people learning and playing together in the local parks, around the coffee shops, in rooms at the libraries, on the patios and porches, at the end of the cul-de-sacs, ... It's a vision where you're as likely to see someone out in public carrying an instrument as staring at a smartphone.
- I'm adding a placeholder tab at the top of the blog labeled "Columbia Bluegrass" to keep notes, links, and so forth about this local musical practice--particularly for those who are interested in examining this as a group exercise in Applied Zen.
- Maybe it's just blathering about personal experience, or maybe it's instruction and blueprints to change your world--I suppose that's up to you. Regardless, expect to see more posts on the topic here in the future. Feel free to enjoy them on whatever levels you like.
- As usual, bonus points for anyone who can identify the koan within the post!