Dónal Donohoe

It was one of those days where all tasks relating to the emails in my inbox had been dispatched quickly and the rest of the day stretched ahead without anything else requiring imediate attention. I had up until recently been quite busy in the studio with all that such work entails, recording, listening, mixing and listening again, so much so that it had been hard to find the time just to practice, play and work on new music. When the opportunity to do so presented itself it was seized imediately and the next hour or two was spent on a journey into music with no predetermined destination.

I once heard that when practicing one should work hard but stop just before it reaches the point of pain. I rarely if ever experience pain while playing music, but the hours in the studio meant that my hands were more often turning nobs and draging the computor’s mouse than they were playing my instrument. To say that it was enjoyable to sit there and play music like that would be an understatement and when I decided to stop I was nowhere near reaching the point of pain, but it was somewhere near the point where once again my fingers felt nimble.