Posted on January 6th, 2019 | by Leslie0
I am a fan of precision. I consider it to be essential to communication and to creation. As a naturally precise person it doesn’t feel constrained to be precise. It doesn’t feel like a box; it’s a tool of my expression.
Studio work is all about precision. I think that’s why I took to it more easily than I did to performance. The part of my brain that revels in exact measurements of sound and pitch and breath and layering adores the studio. It’s usually my body that gives out before my brain does. Although today, after 12 hours combined in the studio this weekend, both gave out on me at once.
Fair’s fair. They did well!
I can hold in my mind the exact rhythm and tempo of the phrases I have sung, listening back to them. Take after take. They are sculpted out of time and space and I can hold them in front of me like a frozen cloud, analyzing, weighing them against each other. It’s similar to the way many of us cram before a test. All of that information can somehow stay put for 24 hours, but after we regurgitate it it’s gone, settled back into the deeper storage containers of our memories or lost for good.
I will remember forever, however, my physics teacher in highschool explaining the difference between accuracy and precision. Itself, a very precise and accurate explanation. (Yes, I love the pairing of these concepts.)
It’s exhausting work, but very rewarding. I feel very much as though I’ve truly exerted myself at the end of 6 hours in the studio. That perhaps sounds obvious to say.. “Of course you were exhausted!” But this is a different kind of tired. Parts of my brain that don’t normally get to feel really challenged are tested and I find that exhilarating.
I think it’s one of the reasons I love painting with watercolours so much. Or drawing a subject faithfully. Or making tiny miniature sculptures. Or doing macro photography. Precision makes my brain sing. The tiny perfect ways things fit together are a marvel to me.
One of these days I’ll actually manage to type up my thoughts before midnight when my brain is less mushy. (Some interesting typos have been edited already.) It’s amusing to me that I’m talking about precision when the words swimming from my mind through my fingers are jumbling and bumbling on the way out.
Here’s to another deep sleep, well-deserved. And to all of you.