Monteton Memories

I wrote pages and pages of my memories while on the plane home. Too many to put in one note, so I'll have to write several. Now that I'm on a qwerty keyboard again it will go alot smoother. One of my favorite moments at Dordogne Jazz School in Monteton was in advanced theory with Jonathan Brateoff, the guitar tutor. I know you probably don't think this sounds exciting, and at first, it wasn't. Jon challenged us to know our stuff quickly, because in jazz, there is no time to think. He said if we practice hard for the next five years, we might be decent jazz players. That news was almost depressing. At 1:00, the session was to end for the lunch break. At 1:00, Jon was just getting started. He had spent alot of time talking about working with a metronome, and feeling the groove, and that it was the most importance base for good playing. So at 1:00, Jon got the drummer going in a groove, and the large group of us jammed along. He brought instruments in and out for solos, and the whole while, he was dancing. Jon's passion for music is infectious. You can't take your eyes off of him when he is feeling the music, and he danced exhuberantly, all around the room in the upper floor of the castle where we rehearse. This jamming and dancing went on for 30 minutes non-stop. Afterwards, Jon said, "Now that was music." We all left feeling like we were on top of the world.

Excuses

Having the time of my life and cannot put it into words. . . French computer keyboards are so difficult to type into. . . everytime I tried to go online while in Monteton at the Dordogne Jazz school the computer was down. . . busy practicing. . . or just lazy. . .

The most wonderful people to talk to, work with, practice with, laugh with.

Now in Paris, walking everywhere, people watching, tour de france watching. I keep going back to the same bakery with the best pain au chocolate (chocolate croissants) still warm.

More later, Becky

Almost Ready

Hi Friends, thank for checking on me. I leave tomorrow, have a million things to do. Please follow me on my journey to Dordogne International Jazz Summer School in Monteton, France. From car to plane to plane to RER to subway to train to train to taxi to van. And then, I'll be there and be able to get back to you. Certainly I won't miss any connections. . .