Quiet reflection

Laughable term really.

It's 4 days before more birthday, well let's say 3 1/2 days I was born in the afternoon.  I'm turning 29.  As I grow older, I find myself growing more and more anxious that I'm not living my life as I ought to be.  I'm not sure how life ought to be lived, because let's be honest, it's going to be different for everybody.

I once asked Leo if he would support me if I ever turned to a career singing.  He said yes, he thinks I'm a wonderful singer.  But in my head are a lot of self doubts.  I'm turning 29, one year off from 30, by this time most opera singers who have chosen this path as a career have already gotten a post graduate, or have auditioned for parts, or have travelled for festivals.  My age is making me doubt that this will ever happen.  And this makes me sad.  And that makes me feel that something has been missed.  

I know the saying: "Age is only a number" but I am nearly 1/3 of the way to 90, which best case, die of old age, is the age.  I've lived a good life, and am a good person.  I have wonderful family and friends who have stood by me and cheered me on, and if anything is lacking in my life, it's usually because of my own doing, or lack of doing.

I could choose to stop, to give it all up, give up dreaming of something that my mind is telling me is unattainable.  But for some reason, it hurts more than usual.  I used to listen to classical music and I would weep (I don't sob, I don't wail, I tear up, I grow misty eyed, and a little sniffly), I would feel so sad that I can think "that could be me, but it's not, because I'm actually not good enough"

Isn't that what it comes down to?  Whether or not you think you're good enough for what you want?  If you don't think you deserve it, how are you supposed to attain it?  It's not just going to magically appear for you, right?

I suppose I can keep telling myself the above.  I suppose that life is only as long or as short as we imagine it to be.  If measured in years, a life can be a very, all too short trip.  I suppose if I want it to, I can make my life into a song, each moment, notes along the staff.

Quiet reflection.

Quite a laughable term.  Nothing quiet about looking at your life and seeing where it's going.

yay new school year

While the kiddies and the post-secondary kiddies go off to classes.  September signifies another year of singing.

I love new beginnings.  There's freshness and hope.  Nothing can go wrong and that's only because when something does go wrong it gets fixed.  In the beginning I'm ready to conquer the world, my attitude is very much "Look out world because here I come"

The only darkness is on the horizon, when I get to a nice middle and I get frustrated with myself.  But that stays in the back of my mind until it arrives.

For now I like the newness of a new year.

I have always been a dreamer

My dreams are larger than life
I shoot for the moon, and can only hope to land among the stars.

When it's just me singing I only to close my eyes and I can picture myself on a stage bringing the song to life, basking in the lights.  But then the song is finished and I'm only in my living room.  There are no extravagant costumes, at the best just jeans and a t-shirt.

Sometimes my heart breaks, as the slow and sad realizations starts to sink in that my dreams may never see the light of the day.  Most days I can see that my life isn't so bad, that it truly is a good life, I have the people that love me, and a decent job that pays me enough.  Also my health, that's pretty important.

But for once I want to soar above the clouds with nought but the clouds beneath my feet and stars, moon and the ever circling planets above my head.  But forever will be tethered by my feet grounded upon the earth. And I will sigh,

It's nearly 2 AM

And I hate my brain. I need to rant...

I finally got my mark back from my exam, and I got 60 (bare minimum to pass) - AGAIN! Last year I understood. This year I don't get it.

I worked so hard, yes, I didn't practice vocally every day but everything went on in my head when I couldn't. I would go around singing the songs in my head. Yes, my ear training requirement went kaput but my Vocalises were not that bad, not failing bad.

I want to scream at them, what do you want from me? I'm giving you all I have and you're saying it's not good enough.

I'm upset with this, part of me thinks it's not fair. I see people get built up that don't need it, they seem to have it all. They talk about how hard it was to get there, I want to shout me too, but I'll never be there.

Every time I feel like I move forward it's like I get tugged right back down. It's as if I don't deserve this, and it hurts. I hate the hurt, I want to run away from it. Unfortunately, running hurts more.

So for now I will dwell, and cry, and be angry, and then tomorrow I will come home from my half day of work and just go right back to my keyboard plunking out notes and trying to sing. Because that's all I can ever do I suppose.

When I say comment...

...on another's singing, usually of the younger sort, I'm afraid I may seem snooty or bitter. Or maybe even both. I don't mean to, but let's face it there is a lot of things that go wrong when youngsters pick up singing. I don't mean that they shouldn't ever, in fact have them do choir (bonus for socialization and it can be loads of fun). But there shouldn't be an expectation that they are this fantastic singer that will one be even better when an adult. Especially forcing them to be a soprano voice.

I'm 28, by the end of the year I will be 29. I didn't start learning to use my voice to hit these crazy Soprano land notes until I was 25 (probably even could argue 27). I was shocked that I was considered a Soprano voice. I thought I was an alto, maybe even a mezzo (once I learned what Mezzo meant). It takes a lot of work and a lot of practicing to even hit a high A/B and even more slipping and holding my abdomen for extra support to crank out a C6 (that's 2 above a middle C). I could not do that when I was 10.

Then people rave about a 10 year old who can passably sing "O Mio Babbino Caro" and I cringe. I want to yell, she is NOT THAT GOOD! She's pitchy and she sings with her throat not her body and head. She doesn't pronounce her words you have no clue what she's singing. It's a lovely sound, but if I say it could be better, I feel like I'm telling the world that the kid sucks.

Earlier this year, something similar occurred. There were these young girls singing, true, they were singing more popular songs, but I will now maintain that I'm glad I went and learned to be trained classically. There are things you learn that singing pop tunes will never give you. In fact it will give your voice a chance to live longer. Most pop singers barely have careers longer than 10-20 years or beyond the age of 30/35. Classical singers can have a career well into their 60s. So when I asked others what they thought of the three singers they all smile and said that they were good. I looked at them and said really? Give me 30 minutes with them and I can have them singing even better. I got looks, and I felt only slightly bitter and snooty.

I not cocky, nor do I think my voice is stellar. In fact I cringe when I record myself and listen to it later. Sort of when you listen to a recording of yourself and you wrinkle your nose and question if that's really your voice. People have to tell my voice is great, and they do, in fact back when I was first learning to sing, my dad said "Can I be honest?" (he always asks this now, back from the days that I was far too sensitive) "You will never have a career as a pop singer, *pause* But you could have one as a classical singer" Over the years since then, I've worked on the skills that I need, the things that I need to work on, and I've developed a rich, mature sound that is at home in a woman 30 years older. But these things I have taken away to apply to my own voice, I now listen to in other voices.

I think everyone can sing. If you can talk, you can sing. But I do wish listeners would mind their praises. Not everyone can sing opera, just not everyone can perform surgery. It takes more training and preparation than a 10 year old has done. And no, I'm not bitter at all.

Emotions and singing

There are a great many things I do that I do not understand. Artistic endeavors is not one of those things. I enjoy participating in the arts because it gives me a chance to express something that I don't express well with words. My emotions have always been a source of frustration for not only me, but those around me. I cannot put into words what I feel most times because at any time I view two sides to my emotional outbursts: I may know I feel sad, but I don't always understand why I feel sad because I know there is no reason to be sad. Add on, the emotional atmosphere in a given area can also have a large effect on my emotional reaction (yay Empathy!), and we've a got ourselves a recipe for probably the most sensitive person.

Most of my artistic endeavors have fallen by the wayside. It's not that I have stopped feeling most of the emotions that pass through me, but rather I believe it's because I sing.

Out of the over half dozen instruments that I have played throughout my life, singing has been my favourite. Not just for the ease with which my instrument can travel (which is awesome, it's with me ALL THE TIME!), but rather that I am actually part of the music. I may not be the young maiden who is waiting for her love to return home from working along the Rhine, the longing and anticipation of a joyous reunion, but I can put myself in her shoes. Singing allows my empathy to be exercised and controlled. Singing allows me to feel without having to give an explanation, it's a medium where it's expected. Singing allows me to tap into the wealth of emotions that I carry with me in my very essence.

I may not be able to act, but I can definitely empathise. Which may in turn help me act somewhere down the line. Maybe if one day in the near future I get lucky and I can actually perform an Opera. Hey, it could happen, then I can allow the world to understand the emotion I feel.

It's been a while

I haven't been updating this blog as I should. It's supposed to chart my growth and I didn't this year.

What a year it has been. I went for my grade 7 RCM and I think I did pretty good. Won't know for sure until the grades come in. Wednesday they tell me.

I auditioned for a scholarship but that ended up being a slight disaster where I forgot the words to one of my songs. *sigh* it was an experience though, I guess I can't really complain.

But every time I sing I improve and that's all that matters.

My last lesson of the year was like the last day of school before summer vacation. Don't have to work on anything important it could be just fun. My teacher gave me an Opera aria, she called it pop opera, mainly because it's so easily found in any singer's repertoire. The song "O Mio Babbino Caro" from the once act opera, Gianni Schicchi. It's a pretty little piece with notes from an E4 to an A5, which is quite the range, and a perfect show off for a Soprano singer. I also was given a list of songs to look at over the summer. Spanning from Mozart to 20th century Operas. Fun times for all! :)

I can feel it starting

In just over one week I will once more perform at the Kiwanis Music Festival. Just like I did last year, but I will be trying out 2 different classes than I did last year. Last year I did Classical/Baroque Opera and two Italian Arias. This year I will be doing 20th Century Opera and Music Theatre - Open - Contemporary - Ballad. So a little different, but the adjudicator for the Music Theatre was the adjudicator for my classes last year. So this'll be neat. Don't think that she'll remember me being there from last year, many girls tend to do about 10 different classes (exaggeration, I know, but I get to be dramatic).

I can feel my body entering the anticipation stage, and I can't say that it's a good kind of feeling. My heart rate begins to speed up, and I can feel the edges of blind panic creeping up on me. But this feeling is okay to feel, I will let it wash over me, and I will still be standing here and the music will still be there.

I am being asked, if only by myself, to look to the future. To think about what I want out of this. I know what I want, I just need to verbalise it, and to accept that if things don't turn out the way I wished them to that it's still okay to dream about it. To pick myself up and keep following my heart.

My teacher suggested to me that I get recordings of Opera singers to sing to. This to me is hard to reconcile in my head. I have listened to some of these singers in the past and felt inferior to their skill and voice. This stems from things that happened in my childhood that had made me question my own self worth. But the goal that my teacher wants me to realise in singing along with these women is to get my body comfortable making these sounds that are actually very comfortable for it to make, but my mind stands in the way. What's the saying? A mind is a terrible thing to waste? I'd give my mind to waste to make me forget things and to enjoy its moment.

So that's where I am on this crazy road that I am taking.

For a new year

I don't document progress well. In fact I don't document well. In school I hated having to do reports and essays on things that I've done because well I did them, why do I have to explain it? And this feeling continues.

But it is near the end of January and I skipped the whole New Years reflection until now.

December we had the end of term recital. I actually at the end felt better than I have since starting this whole crazy venture. I was nervous but somewhere in my head I made myself take a breath. Once I inhaled everything felt better. It wasn't perfect, but still it was good.

This year I look forward to doing the Kiwanis Music Festival, and my grade 7 voice exam. This year will bring lots of experiences. Lots of learning experiences. Which is always a good thing.