Sunday, March 3, 2013

An Exhausted End to a Bad Day

I felt really depressed all day and if I were to ask myself "Why?" it all sounds so trivial.

First of all, I have to honestly say I have a pretty depressing life, certainly compared to most people I know.  I don't have a tragic life: nothing really terrible has happened to me, although I could say nothing really wonderful has happened to me either, certainly not in recent memory.

I know I'm better off than a lot of people, although this is mostly in the abstract.  I am healthy (not to be taken for granted at my age) and despite living on a tight budget have not been devastated by the economic downturn, as many people have.

On the other hand, I spend about about 50% of my waking life working at something dull, monochromatic, sensually arid, and totally devoid of human interaction, and 40% of it taking care of a loved one who is physically, mentally, and financially deteriorating.  So the other 10% has to compensate for everything.   I rarely do anything frivolous or fun, and the thing that I placed so much hope in, namely singing (and feeling special being front and center performing for people and getting applause - with or without actual applause) seems further and further out of reach.

I used to say that I would never have fallen hook, line, and sinker for The Mentor if I hadn't already been filled with unfulfilled longings of all sorts.  Some of these have been taken care of (I have to be careful what I write about here) but that is few and far between and has to be kept private, so it's not something I can claim bragging rights to.  As for the singing part, what he did wasn't just remind me that I had a voice, but provide me with a few moments of magic via which I was able to feel special in front of an audience in a venue that was rather talent starved.  And while I was never ever stupid or delusional enough to think that I was going to have a career singing at this late date, I don't think I quite fathomed how far down the food chain in the world of classical singing I actually was.  I certainly thought I would have been considered good enough to sing in someone's amateur opera production or concert, to be a sought after church soloist (as distinct from being someone who chases the choir director around with ideas for things I want to sing), or to get invitations to sing at someone's wedding, party, or (sad to say) funeral.  But this has not happened.

OK, let's get specific.  There is now a whole new crew of conservatory students in my little avocational choir, and competition for the solos spots is really heating up, not to mention that there almost never are any for lower women's voices, certainly not interspersed in choir music.  And here's the thing.  The older people who went to conservatories are interested in the younger people who are going to conservatories and it's like an exclusive little club.

I know when I had that conversation with my therapist about "awesomeness" one of the things I mentioned was that I liked the idea of seeming "interesting" to people and having people be curious about me.  Well, something that I have really noticed is that no one is curious about me at all.  I don't recall anyone asking whom I studied with, how I began singing, when, where, and under what circumstances I began singing, what I did before I joined this choir, or really anything at all.  People have thanked me for singing and told me I sounded nice.  Some people just look through me.  There is one in particular, the man whose wife recommended a voice teacher to me (it turns out I couldn't find one thing about this teacher online and it isn't whom her husband studies with anyhow!), who has never ever ever said anything to me when I have sung, but today he thanked some of the people who sang today.  That really rankled.

I am just so tired of thinking up everything for myself, whether it's suggesting solos to the choir director, planning concerts, whatever.  On the other hand if I don't do that I will have nothing.

I wish I were someone who wanted to be "good" but I'm not. (I try to treat people I know with fairness and compassion but I am hardly interested in sainthood, in fact I would like a big fat vacation from taking care of other people that lasts a long long long time.) I am basically self-centered and I want to be in front of an audience getting bravas.  Of course I know I have to work hard, but I didn't think it would be this hard.  I don't even mean I didn't think it would be this hard to sing well, I meant I didn't think it would be this hard to pique someone's interest enough that they would offer me some opportunity to do something  in front of some group of people who would think I was fabulous.

A friend said maybe I should try burlesque.  If my SO weren't such a prude I would do it in a heartbeat. Remember what Mazeppa, Electra, and Tessie said: "You gotta have a gimmick".  Mine could be singing "Mon Coeur."

FWIW, I had a pretty decent runthrough of "Liber Scriptus" when I got home.  I determined I would sing the daylights out of it.  Why not?  I had hardly tired myself this morning.

And now I'm glad the day is over.  Maybe I'll like tomorrow better.

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