There is a precipice we face as artists, musicians, photographers etc. and before this precipice exists all out doubts, our restrictions and fears. We can slog though practice – Paco de Lucia and John Fahey talked of practicing for eight ours or more before making breakthroughs – or sometimes it can come to us by grace or through a talented teacher. Crossing that precipice brings us into an infinite place, in musical terms where both hands are coordinated and the mind does not impede what the muscle memory and body instinctively knows.
The Dry River is inaccessible, treacherous and scattered with loose, sharp granite and to work there requires that I slow down, become humble, and completely aware of every breath and step. As Robert Adams says, “There is everywhere silence – a silence in thunder, in wind, in the call of doves, even a silence in the closing of a a pick-up door. If you are crossing the plains, leave the interstate and find a back road on which to walk; listen.”