I’ve become a big fan of pop psychology lately, especially in the self-help department.

True, there’re a lot of wacky ideas, you’ll have to separate the wheat from the fluff, but there’s a lot of wisdom in it also.

Take for instance, the concept of abundance.

This is a concept that has floated around since the early 20^th century.

It basically says that the universe is abundant, and that everything you need is already out there, provided for by nature.

When I first read it, my initial reaction was skepticism.

If nature is so abundant, why is there so much poverty in the world?

But after having pondered on it for a few years, I realize that the concept is totally rooted in reality.

The reason why some people are rich and why some are poor is because some have recognized the abundance in nature, and learned to tap into it while others haven’t.

It may be hard to see how the concept applies to guitar playing, but it does.

To rephrase the question, why is it that some people become good players and others don’t?

The answer is the same; some people have learned to tap into their natural playing ability (their natural guitar abundance) while others haven’t.

We can paraphrase the law of abundance for guitar this way:

Everything you want your guitar playing to be is already there within you; all you have to do is discover it.

In other words, you’re already endowed with the natural abundance of great playing, and all you have to do is find this gift.

The only problem is; nature may be abundant, but that abundance doesn’t come to you automatically, you’ll have to harvest it.

And this is the hard part – harvesting nature’s abundance – because it requires effort.

Picture to yourself some guy living in the middle of a jungle. He’s surrounded by food – there’s wild game in the jungle, fish in the rivers and streams, and wild fruits in the trees.

Can you imagine the guy starving to death?

Yes, he will – if he stays in his jungle hut, and doesn’t go out to harvest all that food.

And this is precisely the problem.

We’re all surrounded by natural abundance, the only problem is that some of us do not bother to go out and harvest this abundance and consequently, remain poor, or even worse, starve to death in the midst of plenty.

Over the years, I’ve met a number of guitarists who seem to think that the only problem with their playing is that they haven’t found the ‘magic formula’ yet.

And so they’re constantly trying to find that magic pill, that special technique, that new trick, and it’s one trend after another, one gimmick after another.

I actually took lessons with one of them.

Every semester, he’d come out with a new technique, a new gimmick. And he was so possessed with the idea of coming up with a magic formula for good playing, he never had time to practice.

It is true that there’re special techniques in guitar playing but you can’t substitute them for practice.

I’ve taught a number of amazing players, and one thing about them is, they are always playing.

One of them always had his guitar with him, it was like an extra appendage. And then there was this other student who was always playing in his truck; every time I saw him in the car park, either waiting for someone or for lectures to start, he would have his guitar in his hand and would be playing it.

There’s just no substitute for practicing.

I’m talking here about serious hardcore practicing, the kind that takes place the whole day long, sitting with your guitar, playing it whenever you get the chance.

This is something many people don’t realize, the tremendous amount of practice that has to take place before you can become a good player.

The second problem with nature’s abundance is that to be successful at harvesting it, you need proper tools and skills.

That’s one thing those pop psychologists forgot to tell you.

Nature may have provided you with a great deal of abundance but it doesn’t make it easy for you to harvest it.

For example, catching a fish for dinner is not easy if you lack a fishing rod, even harder is bringing down a deer without some shooting implement and good shooting skills.

This is where the analogy becomes useful.

To catch wild game successfully, you’ll have to employ the most effective means possible. There’s no point wandering around in the jungle, you’ll never catch any game that way. You’ll have to be totally focused on your prey and employ every means at your disposal to ensnare it.

The same is true of the guitar.

To master the guitar, you must be single-minded in your practicing, and you must employ every means possible to get at your desired results too.

Which brings us to the only thing that matters – getting results.

You see, in hunting for food, the only thing that matters is that you catch it. How you do it is totally irrelevant. (I believe this echoes that famous old Chinese saying about the color of cats being irrelevant to their ability to catch mice.)

And the same is true of playing guitar.

It doesn’t matter how fancy your technique or the theory behind it, if it doesn’t bring your fingers to the strings in time to do their work, it’s simply ineffective and perhaps you need to look elsewhere.

So why take this rather circuitous path to explain something as simple as practicing and doing it correctly (‘correctly’ being the method that produces results)?

Because I think it helps put things in perspective.

Every one of our ideals, (including wealth, including that ‘great guitar technique’) is already materialized, and is out there waiting for us, like some wild game in the jungle.

If you look at it this way, practicing is not just some wild stab in the dark, hoping you’ll find some magic solution one day, it’s a deliberate search/hunt for your guitar virtuosity.

And like any hunt, if you don’t track it down the first time, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, it just means you have to keep on looking.

And like any hunt, if you keep on looking, you will find your prey one day.

That’s the other angle to the law of abundance.

If you search for it long and hard enough, you will find it.

Actually, that’s not a law, it’s a guarantee.

One of the most beautiful studies written for the guitar is Giuliani’s Study in e minor, Op 48, No. 5.

The piece employs a simple arpeggio pattern (p i m a m i) with a beautiful melody embedded in it.

The melody holds the key to the tempo of the piece. I usually recommend playing the piece without the arpeggios first, to get a sense of the melody, and then add the arpeggios later.

The arpeggios should be seen as just an embellishment of the chords, an attempt to simulate an orchestral string tremolando. Sor wrote about this special effect in his method.

The study is one of five that I recommend in the AOV for Guitar as essential practice for the right hand.

Here’s a video of the study:

One of the first pieces I learned was the famous ‘Romance.’ My version was taken from a book called “100 Guitar Best” published in Hong Kong.

Over the years, I’ve seen other versions but have been dissatisfied by them all, especially in regard to two spots where the harmony always seemed suspect to me. These two spots are in the E major section, measures 3-4 and 13-14.

A few years I managed to find a manuscript of a piece called Estudio para Guitarra by Antonio Rubira, an early version of the Romance. I decided to check the two parts in question in the version and became excited by what I found.

In the first part, the version has a dominant 7^th in root position (B7 chord with ‘b’ in the bass). My first version has an ‘a’ in the bass which puts it in third inversion. Other versions have ‘f#’ in the bass which puts it in second inversion.

In the second part, the version has a I 6/4 chord (E major chord with ‘b’ in the bass). My first version has a dominant 7^th chord with ‘g#’ in the melody while other versions have a I chord in root position. The Noad version keeps it in dominant while taking out the seventh (B major chord with ‘g#’ in the melody).

The root position chord in measures 3-4 in the major section makes perfect sense and is consistent with the minor section where all the harmonies are in root position. Second and third inversions sound oddly out of place in this simple harmonic environment.

The 6/4 chord in measures 13-14 makes even more sense. It is perfectly in line with the harmonic conventions of the time and creates a smooth transition into the dominant chord. It also eliminates having a G# note against a B7 chord for three beats, which has a jarring effect and is not consistent stylistically with the rest of the piece.

Based on the evidence, it became clear to me that this version is the original version of the piece and I decided to relearn it.

There’s one more significant difference in this piece – the arpeggio pattern is reversed. After playing the piece with this pattern, I’m even more convinced of the authenticity of this version.

I just uploaded the version to youtube. Please check it out.

If you’ve read the AOV, you will know that the book lists six basic principles of virtuosity. These principles are universal principles of performance, central to everything we do.

At the end of the book, I described specific ways of achieving power, speed, and precision, utilizing what I call virtuoso reality principles.

One of the things I like to do is to read up on books by experts in other fields, mostly books by real practitioners, as opposed to those by theoreticians and armchair experts, to see if there’re any correlations, any confluences of ideas, or whether I’ve missed an essential point.

So far, I’m glad to say that everything I’ve read up to this point supports the basic ideas in the AOV.

And I was not disappointed by Tim Cartmell’s book.

Mr. Cartmell reminds me of two other great American martial arts exponents, Peter Ralston and Bruce Frantzis. All three followed their passion and went to live in China or Taiwan at one time or another to perfect the mastery of their art. And all three gentlemen turn out to be prolific writers and we’re all the better for it.

Back to Mr. Cartmell.

The book is in three huge chapters, basically three main sections.

The first chapter describes the different types of throws and basic principles relating to them. The second is about body use, and the third chapter goes into the actual mechanics of the throws.

Naturally, I’m drawn only to the second chapter ‘Body Use.’

Although written in greater technical detail and in more technical language, the ideas do not differ significantly from the AOV. In fact many sections support the AOV.

For example, here’s a short excerpt from the section titled ‘ Principle Four: Generate Power Through Stretch/Rebound and Rotation.’

“There are basically two ways to generate power without using tension or effort: the first is to allow an external, compressive pressure (to) stretch the muscle and connective tissue, storing energy which will cause the tissue to rebound or “snap back,” creating a pulse of force; the second is to allow the limbs and torso to rotate or swing like pendulums, generating centripetal/centrifugal force.”

One of the central themes of the AOV is to generate power through the release of tension rather than through its exertion. And the way to achieve that involves exactly the same process that Mr. Cartmell describes.

For example, in plucking strings, when your fingertip meets the string, allow it to flex or give slightly. Here, the string is the external pressure that is acting on the fingertip, stretching it, and making it flex back. And then, to generate the power, release the finger in an instantaneous action.

Interestingly enough, Mr. Cartmell uses the word ‘snap’ to describe the release of energy. This is the same word I use to describe the snapping action when we release the finger from the string.

However, I do differ with him on one point, but this is a small point concerning an analogy rather than a basic fundamental principle.

On page 41, he mentions that “Correct muscle tone is neither limp nor rigid, a coiled noodle will not snap back.”

But a coiled noodle is very different from a relaxed finger. The relaxed finger may be and should be limp when relaxed, but it is not a lifeless inanimate object like a noodle. It is capable of snapping back at any time and exerting pressure and force.

This is the same error of analogy that another author made. He said that plucking the string with a relaxed tip joint is like trying to play with a paintbrush. The analogy is off here too because a paintbrush is a lifeless object with no power and muscles behind it, unlike human fingers.

In the AOV, I mention momentum as essential to power and speed. On page 37, Mr. Cartmell echoes the same idea saying:

“When generating momentum (the key to power), tension serves as a kind of ‘brake’ which inhibits the smooth transference of momentum through the body, stifling power.”

Notice the word ‘smooth.’ This also echoes another key principle of the AOV – fluidity.

One of the comments (or is it criticism?) I’ve received about the AOV is that it’s too freeing.

To which my response has always been “is there any other way?”

It’s almost as if you’re seeing a runner struggling down the road with a chain strapped onto his back, and you politely suggest to him that perhaps if he removes that chain, maybe he’d be able to run a little faster and he says, “But it feels too freeing that way.”

Freeing yourself is the whole point of the AOV.

To achieve virtuosity, you have to remove all the chains that bind you and slow you down, and prevent you from moving at your natural and optimal speed.

But of course, if someone prefers to run with a chain strapped onto his/her back, that’s fine too, it’s a free country.

Ever since I can remember, my life has been defined by two purposes.

One, to learn the secrets of mastery and two, to apply that mastery to achieve full expression in life and in music.

The first journey has been well documented in the AOV.

The second is still to be written and probably never will.

As part of the continuing saga of the first journey, I recently acquired two new books.  Yip Chun’s ‘Wing-Chun Martial Arts: Principles and Techniques‘ and Tim Cartmell’s ‘Effortless Combat Throws.’

Yip Chun is the son of Yip Man, the teacher of Bruce Lee.

And you can probably guess from the title of the second book why I was drawn to it.

To me, the martial arts represents a treasure trove of secret knowledge and wisdom. Growing up in the East, I was familiar with the legendary exploits of the old martial arts masters.

Special powers, levitation, the ability to fly through space – all easily depicted these days with computer graphics and cheapened by Hollywood special effects, but very real to me growing up.

For some reason, I was never attracted to the martial arts enough to want to practice it myself. I did take Tai Chi lessons for half a year but gave that up quickly. Somehow, standing in one place, moving the body for the sake of moving it was not exactly my idea of fun.

But I have always been a voracious reader of all things martial. And I relate many of my techniques through them too.

My concept of sticky fingers, for instance, mirrors  the technique of Chi Sau – Sticky Hands.

When you play the guitar, you should feel a stickiness in the fingertips, as if they have a special attraction to the strings.

The technique of sticky fingers produce extreme economy and precision. You feel as if you’re never going to miss the strings, partly because your fingers are never very far from them, and partly because they possess that close connection to the strings which I call finger intelligence.

And so it was that the minute I saw Yip Chun’s book, I was hooked instantly. And the book didn’t disappoint. Fascinating stuff. There’s so much in the book, some of which I will no doubt further elaborate here one day.

The second book is by American kungfu master Tim Cartmell.

This book is far more theoretical, perhaps reflecting the author’s western background. I have yet to dive into the book, I just got it yesterday, but it promises to be a good read this summer.

There’re two ways to achieve effortlessness in life.

The first is to do only the bare essentials, to get rid of all unnecessary stuff.

Less steps, less components means less effort.

The second is to get someone or something else to do it for you.

When I suggested this second option in one of the earlier incarnations of the AOV, (I think I said something like, “Do not do for yourself what others can do for you.”), my friend who was proofreading it was aghast. He left a few exclamation marks by way of comment.

But no, that’s not what I meant.

I didn’t mean to imply that the way to effortlessness is to exploit others.

What I meant is to harness the energy of others to do your work for you, in symbiotic ways, in mutually beneficial relationships.

A classic example of this kind of relationships is the honey bee. Flowers need honey bees to pollinate for them, and honey bees need flowers to give them honey. Win-win all around.

If you’re a guitar teacher, you don’t need to advertise yourself.

Let your students do it for you.

Teach them well, and their good playing will speak and advertise for you. Another win-win relationship.

In the martial arts, utilizing your opponent’s strength to defeat themselves is a common strategy. Why waste your energy when you can redirect your opponent’s energy back to him?

In the AOV, enlisting the energy of other elements is a crucial part of the strategy.

Don’t depend on the fingers to pluck the string for you.

Harness the power of momentum to generate effortless speed. Or tap into the energy in the strings to produce effortless power.

And of course, don’t forget the first option – make your movements super economical so you don’t have to do so much work.

I’ve been playing the tremolo a lot lately – neglected it these past ten years. (In fact, come to think of it, I have neglected the guitar these past ten years.)

But I’ve been playing the tremolo a lot lately and it’s been an interesting exercise, revisiting it and observing it anew, from different angles.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m struck by how complex it can be if you want to analyze it. So many elements have to be in place before you can produce that seamless stream of notes.

Of course, if you just follow your instincts and play naturally, it can be the simplest thing to do. It’s like any human motion; if you break it down into its component parts, it can be incredibly complex. But if you just allow your body to do it naturally, it can be really simple too.

Back to the tremolo.

At the basic level, to make it work, the basic conditions I wrote about in the AOV have to be absolutely there. If you don’t have those conditions, forget it.

But there’re other factors involved, such as finding that sweet spot in your hand, where everything is working together and optimally — your hand, wrist, fingers all moving in perfect harmony.

Perhaps the most interesting thing I observed are the basic properties that are absolutely essential to the finger movements themselves.

The first is lightness. (This happens to be a key principle in the AOV.) Your movements have to be super light, not a hint of effort or tension anywhere, completely free and unfettered.

The second is efficiency. Your movements have to be super efficient, no waste of energy, focused only on doing what it needs to do. This is the principle of economy, another basic key principle in the AOV.

And the third is momentum, you have to create momentum in your actions and let it drive your actions.

Momentum is not one of the principles of the AOV. I did include it in earlier versions but decided to take it out as it has more to do with movement than a basic fundamental property of virtuosity.

It is however crucial to virtuoso movement

Think of momentum as a row of falling dominoes.

To knock down a row of dominoes, all you need to do it knock down the first one and the rest will automatically fall over.

It’s the same with virtuoso finger movements. To create a stream of effortless notes, just initiate the first one, and let momentum do the rest for you.

This is something I’ve written about extensively already, and is the principle behind the self-propelled engine. But it’s a principle that is never more crucial than in playing the tremolo.

When you harness the power of momentum to play for you, you’ll find you don’t have to do much, your fingers will do the rest for you. All you need to do it is relax them (and I mean relax them!) and get out of their way.