So, the other back-to-basics thing I have been doing DILIGENT work on is practicing my scales. A scale is an “organized sequence of notes,” or, for the willy-nilly musicians among us, boring shit that you don’t feel like practicing.
HOWEVER, scales improve finger strength and dexterity, help with hand coordination, and improve intonation. They are also an easy way to practice proper hand position. Because law school gave me carpal tunnel (YAY!), I have to be very careful about how I treat my hands. It is incredibly important for me to develop my hand/finger strength and use the proper hand position when I play. Knowing this, I have only JUST started taking my scales seriously after two years of playing. The Internet (and my teacher) are definitely correct that practicing scales makes you a better musician. It’s only been about a month or so and I can already feel and hear an improvement.
Plus, for my new piece (Kuhlau’s Sonatine Op. 20 No.1) I HAVE to practice my scales to have any hope of playing it properly. This sonatina is from the Classical Period (1750ish-1820ish) of classical music. Music from this era requires a lot of precision. There are frequently a ton of notes and a ton of scales. No fudging. So, for the past few weeks I have been focusing heavily on the G-Major scale since there are several 16th note passages that are essentially the G-Major scale. It’s coming along.
Here is the G-Major scale with both hands together (my coordination is a tad wonky but you’ll get the picture) and then the right hand alone.
Here is the portion from Kuhlau that is essentially the G-Major scale but fancy.
Scales FTW!
Compulsive Creation 
Way to be basic, Claire!!! I think this is one of the essential parts of art that no one talks about because it isn’t sexy or interesting: the endless practice! When I watch videos of someone who’s been painting with watercolors for years, every stroke they make looks effortless yet it creates something amazing. Since picking up the brush myself, I know how many brush strokes it must have taken, how many smudges, how many ugly disappointments before “effortlessness” could be achieved. Maybe it should be called “effortfullness”, because it takes practice, more practice, even more practice to develop that level of ease with one’s art, in whatever form it takes.
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