Think I'll at least prepare for the "pre-auditions" in February. Don't know if I should try to do a classical piece, or just two contrasting contemporary. The dilemma being that the common practice seems to be that if you perform two pieces, one is contemporary, one is classical, but I don't have classical training, and am definitely not doing Shakespeare. Too bad that class got cancelled over the summer. From the comments on the forum, don't think I should sing either...so that leaves two monologues. The pre-auditions give you feedback on what's working, what is not, and give you the green light (or not) for the general auditions. If you don't get in, you can try again the next year. I could use the feedback regardless, not really expecting to the get the green light. The monologue I just did is sorta' a black comedy, not sure if I should use it or not, mostly because I'm not sure what to contrast it with.
I was late meeting with classmates after work, took longer to get there than I thought, the meeting place was moved further north. Got one session in and someone gave me a ride to choir practice, which was great, because the sky started to dump rain again, and it was a much further walk than I was thinking. We are working on Christmas music, happily we are doing some new music, at least new to me. Unfortunately, the more difficult one is in Swedish, I have a hard time with Swedish...I don't know how to phonetically spell it out. I mostly have the Finnish down now. We are also singing in Latin.
Still feeling pretty blank. Still making myself write. Feeling completely overwhelmed with scheduling, with everything going on in my life, and in the world, I might add. And all the things I have to do, like buy cleaning supplies for the house, so I can deduct it from my rent so I can get my rent paid on time. And I haven't had time to do it. Maybe before work tomorrow? And cook...and get that other bill paid that I forgot about last month. And I have to get 3-4 more meetings scheduled for class before Sunday, and I'm working Friday night...at least there will be food there. Need to be creative with food, got $20 until the tenth after all the bills are paid. My shoes have all fallen apart, too. Maybe I can do a medical reimbursement...I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I'm just completely overwhelmed with everything. Yeah, I chose to go to school, so I'll have to live with it. I won't get rich doing art, but it keeps me alive. It fills back in all the places that were empty and burnt out, in a way that other things don't, and so that's worth it, for the hope and the joy of it...but there's the other reality of money and I'm slamming into that (I knew I would). Just have to get through it somehow. I have to admit, I do hate being poor.
Showing posts with label decide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label decide. Show all posts
Monday, September 30, 2013
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Late home, the ground is wet, the air, ozony
Dirty and exhausted, but in a better mood than when I walked into the studio earlier in the evening. Nice side effect is that my thigh doesn't have quite the giant knot in it anymore. We have to bring (clown) clothes on Thursday, I just don't know. I have a feeling about my walk, but if I changed it even a bit, it'd be a man, and that might be interesting, too. I need to tone it down, I can't actually see and walk this way, plus I think I'll end up with whiplash. And if I tone it down, that might change the clothes...dilemnas.
I was actually psyched to do my walk. When I was younger, until my mid-twenties, people were always commenting on the way I walked, that it was wrong, stood out in a not-so-good way. My mom says that I didn't learn how to walk until pretty late, and when I did, I walked on my toes (I also spoke in a british accent, who knows where that came from.) I had an aunt that called me twinkle toes, which I think was meant to mock me, and not used as a term of endearment. Anyway, at some point in my twenties, I said "fuck it!" and stopped paying attention, so of course, no one notices, or at least no one comments anymore. A childhood friend had actually told me that if I didn't look down at my feet so much, people may not notice, and you know, she was probably right. But I was shy, so I looked down a lot. (Shrug.) Also, my legs turn out in a permanent second position.
Anyway, I really wanted to blow it up. It was also kinda' fun that I had the limp from the sore quad in one leg. It's pretty ridiculous. George kept trying to get me to laugh, said it was more engaging when I did...how can I laugh continuously and not seem fake? He brought that up when we were "slapping" each other as well, to belly laugh instead of scream...so, I guess that's something I need to look into.
I think I mentioned that the movement class I took in the winter changed the way I walked and changed my center of gravity (which was my initial reason to take it, that and to get out of my head and into my body. My center of gravity was really high before.) I started rolling through my feet, not really sure what I did before, I still have to consciously think about it. Kinda' like the singing class extracted a vibrato I didn't know I had. I can't remember how to get back to it, as I took a long break from singing.
The interview for the 9-month intensive was tonight. Half of the answer is "yes." The ball is in my court. If I do it, I give up having a life for nine more months, but I'll have the tools inside me to move foward for whatever comes next. If I don't do it, I'll still take classes, but not at the same intensity, which I think I need at this stage. I need to figure out the money end of it and the leaving work early once-a-week for nine months. But I love doing this. I love doing this. (I may temporarily hate it on Thursday, but I love doing this.)
I think it's safe for me to let go for real now, and let myself love someone else.
I was actually psyched to do my walk. When I was younger, until my mid-twenties, people were always commenting on the way I walked, that it was wrong, stood out in a not-so-good way. My mom says that I didn't learn how to walk until pretty late, and when I did, I walked on my toes (I also spoke in a british accent, who knows where that came from.) I had an aunt that called me twinkle toes, which I think was meant to mock me, and not used as a term of endearment. Anyway, at some point in my twenties, I said "fuck it!" and stopped paying attention, so of course, no one notices, or at least no one comments anymore. A childhood friend had actually told me that if I didn't look down at my feet so much, people may not notice, and you know, she was probably right. But I was shy, so I looked down a lot. (Shrug.) Also, my legs turn out in a permanent second position.
Anyway, I really wanted to blow it up. It was also kinda' fun that I had the limp from the sore quad in one leg. It's pretty ridiculous. George kept trying to get me to laugh, said it was more engaging when I did...how can I laugh continuously and not seem fake? He brought that up when we were "slapping" each other as well, to belly laugh instead of scream...so, I guess that's something I need to look into.
I think I mentioned that the movement class I took in the winter changed the way I walked and changed my center of gravity (which was my initial reason to take it, that and to get out of my head and into my body. My center of gravity was really high before.) I started rolling through my feet, not really sure what I did before, I still have to consciously think about it. Kinda' like the singing class extracted a vibrato I didn't know I had. I can't remember how to get back to it, as I took a long break from singing.
The interview for the 9-month intensive was tonight. Half of the answer is "yes." The ball is in my court. If I do it, I give up having a life for nine more months, but I'll have the tools inside me to move foward for whatever comes next. If I don't do it, I'll still take classes, but not at the same intensity, which I think I need at this stage. I need to figure out the money end of it and the leaving work early once-a-week for nine months. But I love doing this. I love doing this. (I may temporarily hate it on Thursday, but I love doing this.)
I think it's safe for me to let go for real now, and let myself love someone else.
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