I have never dedicated time, space, and energy to creating a solo practice that an audience has witnessed. My solo artistic practices and rituals have always been reserved for myself and a very small number of dear friends and loved ones. Now is the time for my solo practice (in composition and improvisation) to become tangible to the outside world, in the name of sharing and listening.
With this, busteR is born.
2017 was a year of many things for me, personally. As 2018 approached, the building up of energies from the past twenty-six years of life felt too overwhelming and I couldn't carry it all anymore. I found myself in a new day job that I absolutely loved, but found myself suddenly without a partner (in life and music) of four years. As I grieved the loss of love, of home, and of companionship, I opened myself up to many parts of myself that had quietly gone missing throughout my twenties.
With the new year, I let go of any and all things holding me back personally, artistically, romantically, and creatively. I held a ritual for myself with candles, letters (to and from myself, as well as from others), Deep Listening, and many tears.
Long tones with harmonics on my bass began to grow more colorful again and I felt that I'd begun to breathe more deeply.
Self-care and self-love became daily practices for myself once again, after taking a back seat in my life for too long.
I delved through the difficult work of answering and protecting my inner-child from all of the trauma, anxiety, sadness, and pain that they experienced on their way to their/my adult life.
I began to heal and to let love in again.
And in these processes, as always, I was heavily inspired by the life's work of Pauline Oliveros. Of her composing, her improvising, her poignant and brilliant work with Deep Listening, her humor, and her love.
Pauline's childhood nickname on her softball team was "Buster," which is where I borrow the name for this new solo practice.
It seems fitting, given Pauline's childhood self, her love of children (they're the best improvisers!), and my own recent work on the long abandoned inner-child of my own.
busteR is an experiment and an exercise in remaining open, in letting improvisation happen as it chooses to, in composing for only myself without barriers and deadlines. It is a culmination and expression of all of the personal work that I've done over the past year(s), and all of the personal work that I've yet to do for the rest of my life.
My sounds and silences are inherently connected to me and my self, my body, my experience, and my listening. busteR is a way to celebrate these things always, but particularly when it's the most difficult.