Does it end at the last hit of practice? Is it when you put the drums back on the shelves/in the closet/in the car? When you bow out of the studio or rehearsal space, is that the end?
For me, leaving the studio just means it's time to reflect and incubate. Did I play anything new in my solos? Why? How did it sound/feel? Did I see someone doing something that didn't look "right"? Do I do that as well?
Still, it doesn't stop there. The next day, maybe I'll think about why I'm sore in a spot and figure out whether it was because I was doing something wrong, or something right. I'll find myself looking at the alignment of my wrist and figuring out if it's truly possible to strike in a "straight line".
There's all the tapping and thumping during the day as well, on my lap or the sink or the dashboard, which I try to do away from other people because...well...is annoying, yes? :)
Then driving to practice, I'm thinking about what we're going to do that night. What are the habits I'm trying to break in the songs we're playing? What are the things I want to try in the solos?
Next thing you know, you're playing taiko again. And the cycle continues...
The only thing that stops taiko practice is you. Keep on practicing!
People often wonder how I can learn pieces so quickly. And that's exactly what you described in your post - when I'm trying to learn something, it's never completely out of my mind. I'll think about it when I walk to work, I'll tap it on my thighs when I'm sitting down, I'll sing it to myself in the shower... Of course, that doesn't help with stamina ;-)
ReplyDelete