If You're a New Reader

I don't want the first post you read to be that tirade I wrote this afternoon.

After serious thought, however, I am letting it stand.

This woman did a lot of damage and I hope she reads what I had to say about her (I also deleted every single comment she ever made).

On the other hand, I need to move on.

The time stamp on this blog is all dodgy, so for the record, it's 3:25 am in New York. Not a time I'm usually up unless I am unable to sleep. Usually if I can't sleep I toss and turn, or try to visualize things that will help me sleep, but I realized in this situation it is hopeless.

I have had a lot of losses lately, on top of the endless grief that I feel for getting older (yes, I know I know, I'm grateful I don't have cancer, have my eyesight, have two legs, etc.) and realizing that there are dreams I will never achieve.

I did not need someone who does not know me, and who has not watched me and listened to me progress over the past seven years, tear me to shreds and wipe me off the face of the earth.

I don't mean that I don't want constructive criticism. But constructive criticism is not: your voice is nasal and wobbly (the latter certainly is not true - the former perhaps if I don't make a proper "space", which for me is made harder by the fact that my sinuses are always clogged up) I'll bet you don't practice enough, and by the way, you should stop singing and just work on technique.

The latter would be a fine suggestion if I were under 35 and a reputable coach or teacher told me to do that because doing so would help me be in the running for the big leagues.

But what would that give me now, other than another roadblock between me and some exhilarating pleasure - something I have so little of? I mean it's not an "either" "or". I can work on technique and continue to have fun singing the arias that are a part of my soul, sometimes in public dressed to the nines. What is forestalling the total sensual involvement I get from that going to give me in the long run that is so worth the waiting for?

But there are no words to encompass the rage I feel at her having had the unmitigated gall to say that she thinks I "don't practice enough" . The "B" word that probably shocked some of my churchgoing friends if they read this doesn't even begin to cover it.

Over the past 7 years, does she have any idea of the hours I have put in in "the practice room" (usually my bathroom)? I have practiced when I didn't want to, instead of socializing, instead of cleaning, instead of doing enough work to support myself often? I have spent money on lessons and coachings and music, and ancillary costs of the charity concerts I've produced for myself instead of on the ordinary pleasures of life. I have made enormous sacrifices.

I have been frustrated and upset, miffed at being ignored, hurt, envious, but I don't think I've ever felt as totally demolished as this.

I wish I could shake it off.

After I shut down my computer at 6:30, before going off to choir practice, I went in the bathroom, and yes, I sang exercises for 15 minutes and when I got there I watched every note that came out of my mouth (I am there as a discipline - I am not getting paid nor am I a Baptised Christian) felt good about how much easier it was to sing a scale going up to a high A flat, holding a "high" F for several measures and letting it spin.

I was looking forward to my lesson tomorrow (which I guess is today). I don't know how I will sound now on so little sleep and I have been crying, but I just have to continue on. I went to an audition and sang well (well - I mean well for me) on two hours sleep so I suppose I can take a lesson on two hours sleep.

I want to find some peace of mind now and go back to sleep.

I was thinking of deleting this blog but then I remembered that I made a real friend here, someone who came in from another city just to hear my little Verdi concert.

I had hoped it would inspire someone, like the movie "Julie and Julia" (I am too exhausted and blinded by crying to be able to look for a way to "link" to it right now - maybe later).