For the past couple of days my flipping voice has clammed up again. Damn, blast, and bloody hell. This happened before, as soon as I took my singing seriously again my throat closed up, and inner implosion happened.
Whoo, I got so angry this time, it’s as if an inner torture takes over. Decided this morning I’m not giving up again, no matter what. Will get through this. Will sing anyway, even if it sounds hideous and I want to cry and have tantrums. I’ll sing hideously and cry and have tantrums, but I won’t give up. It can’t go on forever. And I have to do it first thing in the morning. If I leave it too late, my body’s all tense, I’ve sat too long at the computer, life looks dirgy and I haven’t a reason in the world to sing.
So. Up with the lark this morning. Well, the late lark. I put Stephane Grapelli on and jived around for a while – that made me want to sing! Then did tummy exercises to same, had hot shower, good coffee and brought out the broom and stuck on the vocal exercises to sing along with.
Horrible at first. Voice all taut, just wouldn’t come out, throat a boa constrictor. Vocal chords all covered in cotton wool. But I carried on, didn’t I, and pretty soon – whoopee – voice opened up.
The song of the day was “Anyone who had a heart”. It’s a great pour your heart out song. Then Midnight Sun sung by Ella of course. Love that one. Soulful love song. I’m into love this morning, I guess. Hey Jack, where the hell are you anyway?
I’ve started writing my book. Having fun dreaming of being a jazz singer and script and novel writer woman of substance. Fame and fortune just waiting for me round the corner. And Demi Moore’s plastic surgeon.
Now there’s stepping out of history for you.
p.s. I’m sick of gloom and doom, sick of being unhappy, and very very very sick of my past.