The past 24 hours certainly all but ensured that it would be: I didn't sleep a wink last night (due to a panic about my travel arrangements, since rectified). I did both masses with both choirs, with a voice lesson, rehearsal, and several intense conversations with needy people in-between. I forgot to drink my lucky tea and wear my lucky underwear - and I didn't care, because this gig wasn't important to me - just a distraction from the week ahead. I felt scattered, cranky, and irritable.
However, during my 10-minute "stop-by" with D., he was able to (as he says) pull me back to the vocal "Facts": e.g. This is what to request of my body and vocal mechanism. This is where this particular vowel lives, etc.
Still, I grumbled and swore during the entire drive to the gig location. Various thoughts, such as "Why the hell did I agree to this gig when I had this trip the next day?" and "Could my hair look any worse?" and "I hope no one who matters hears me today, since I will surely sound like crap" swirled around in my head.
Still, I got there early enough to breathe, calm, and at least accept the situation for what it was.
Miraculously, it went well. Better than well, actually. Perhaps it was because I was reduced to what works...? There was no room for error - only sincerity of character and self infused into mindful technique - and trust. I added no sauce, I only gave myself over to the composer - which is unlike me.
Something very special - unbelievable - may have happened during the course of a conversation afterward, but I am afraid to even breathe a word of it in public yet. Because I am still so unbelieving.
Yet it's undeniable: there is a beam of beautiful, shimmering light smiling at me from the end of That Tunnel. I see it, I feel it. I hope to confirm it soon.
In the meantime, even the hint of this wonderful thing is a validation, it's like picking up a strong wind at my back, during mile 18 of the Marathon. I can do no wrong at these auditions this week, with this in my pocket.
No comments:
Post a Comment