prison

Today: unmistakably and unapologetically, the Artist in me awoke - she looked around in disbelief and frustration, realizing that she is behind a desk, answering phones and checking in packages as a receptionist, labeling and boxing files, with very little meaningful human interaction. The voice stays off the breath, asleep.

I am ready to go and sing. So ready. Over the next 5 weeks, I know that it's going to be difficult to stick to this incredibly boring grind - so I will have to keep reminding myself that this is what will enable me to have freedom from financial worry while I'm there. Also, my daily hour of singing time does help to ensure some sense of progress and accomplishment.

But to feel fully alive, to be a singer - I recall the one thing I did enjoy about local productions - the daily interaction with other artists (My People). Talking about characters, about what the composer wants, about the process. The Doing.

The rest of it was never worth it, of course, but that is something I do miss right now.

I may have mentioned this before, but when I head to SB, it will have been 1 year since I last performed on stage. It's an odd realization.

Still, at this, the 5-month mark of this Tunnel Year - I must remember that these were my choices; to take some time away from spinning my wheels to regroup, and to raise my standards. And I have succeeded, but can't feel it yet - I can only confirm this on paper, on my resume. The Artist is like any other beast - it only knows the present. While it will revel and rejoice when it's time to shine again, at the moment there is only rain and piano lessons and laundry.

Today, on this gray and dismal day, I am struggling to see the light. Though it's the last thing I feel like doing, some silent practice and a good workout will probably help.