A series of Questions for Robert from a Pesty Questionier II
PQ: How do you know what you know?
R: An epistemological moment, a necessary question for those developing a self-reflective practice, and useful for us all IMO.
PQ: So what is your experience of knowing what you know?
R: A phenomenological moment.
PQ: And?
R: I recall this question – how do you know? - being clearly addressed to me by Dev Ray, while driving us north from Chicago towards a Guitar Craft event c. 2006. My answer then was: as far as I can tell, I was born with it.
Today I would add, something like, being born with a sense of trajectory and the direction to be discovered. Later, realising this came with a default operating system. But any OS needs to be turned on. Then, needs a sufficient supply of energy for it to run. Then, needs to be given specific tasks to run, and specific questions to be entered in the search feature.
PQ: You asked your OS questions?
R: Yes. I ask myself questions.
PQ: Did/do you get answers?
R: If the question has necessity, and is burning, has focus and intensity, mostly yes. If the question addresses useful things, usually I get useful answers in return.
PQ: So you think you’re a source of information?
R: No. Although I am a source of information for myself.
Artists have a particular role in society and their community. Artists are supposed to have access to sources of information, sources available to us all, but with artists the connection / opening is more readily available and direct. Assuming this is so, artists provide a necessary a contribution to society through the arts.
The life of the artist comes with dangers. The first of which is when the power turns on big time. Something like a very high voltage when a switch is thrown. In early King Crimson, the power turned on big time. As with much of the rock music of the 1960s, music leant over and, not so much took the musicians into its confidence, as shouted in their ears. What I would say today is, that without a discipline, when the power turns on interior fuses can blow. There were some young players who, with acid and the juice coming with the music and the scene, never quite came back. Some died. These were tragedies IMO.
A second major problem kicks in when the artist believes the information comes from them, rather than through them. This leads to all manner of problems, especially when reinforced by popular adulation, fame and money. And manipulation by various players in the industry who know that encouraging our lower impulses, reinforced by drugs and attention, is a great way to control the artists. Adulation and fame come with an oppressive weight. This is a massive distraction and requires handling. Money comes with the responsibility to use it responsibly.
All of which comes back to having a self-reflective practice, or discipline. For me, the difficult events, which seem to be part and parcel of just about everything I do, have provided pointed sticks to refine my practice. A compelling necessity.
PQ: Come on. Was your life really that hard?
R: Subjectively, yes. I wish it on no one, with the possible exception of one former manager. The down to earth, practical question, is: this is your life, how do you use it to support your larger, wider aim/s in this life?
Alternatively expressed, by any conventional view, the cards we are served when we’re born are not our responsibility. That’s the hand we’re given. What we are responsible for is, how we play them. By a more unconventional view, we choose the life situation into which we’re born in order to use the challenges that the incarnation provides.
PQ: Well. OK. Back to, how do you know when knowing-what-you-know is actually reliable?
R: That is a good question, especially from you. Even better, a good question on another day. I would find it gratifying if I had a sense that you heard anything I said.
