Public and Private

Well, wouldncha know?  I was in a quasi bad mood yesterday (I say "quasi" because I felt frustrated to be back where things were with the choir director, but still happy at how I had gained ascendancy - good pun - over the "Hallelujah Chorus" as well as happy that I will be singing "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" this coming Sunday), so guess what I did? I just had to take a look at Little Miss's Facebook page to see if there was anything about her Master's recital (which she sang Saturday night after singing the Faure Requiem Friday night).

Obviously I can't be "envious" because she put on a recital, nor would I have wanted it not to go well.

Here's what I just can't bear.  The public nature of all the praise and showcasing that she gets when I basically get none.  Private compliments, dear to my heart as they are, are ephemeral.  I hear them, but the world at large does not.

Basically, the story is, her prestigious voice teacher posted sound clips and photos from the recital with a litany of praise beginning with how she had been blown away by this young woman's audition for the school 7 years ago.

My voice teacher doesn't even know how to use a bloody cell phone camera.

I don't have much else to say about this, other than that I desperately need a publicist.  I do what I can.  I asked the Communications Manager at the church to bring his video equipment on Sunday (he seems to have bought some new equipment) so that he can tape me singing.  He put it in his calendar.  Tomorrow I will remind him.  If I like the video, I can post it on my Facebook page and on my Youtube page (I set one up for myself months ago but have had almost nothing to post there).  In a few weeks I am going to look at the space at the senior center where I am doing Carmen and when I'm there I will ask the Event Planner if he can bring video equipment or if he knows someone who can.  Just to tape something.

As I've said, private compliments are sweet, public ones are a hundredfold sweeter.

In fact what pushed me over the edge with the choir director last year was his endless public praising of Little Miss.  I found it unseemly and at variance with the alleged mission of what we were doing there.

There was a meme circulating on Facebook a while ago (which I didn't do) that asked "What superpower would you want?" Really all I want is to be able to go back to 1964 and do a few things differently and then let my life play out again.  I'm not asking for perfection, or even for all my wishes to come true.  Really, when I think about it, everything that makes me want to put my head down and sob (which I did yesterday) has its roots in some mistakes I made when I was, oh, between the ages of 14 and 20.  Not mistakes I made last week or last year or even ten years ago.

I'm also crying because my partner may be losing her eyesight, because I know that things with her will never get better, all I can do is slow down their getting worse.  And a friend's partner (whom I don't know very well) is dying of cancer, that overtook her very fast.  I'm sad for them and I'm sad for me that I can't insulate myself from everything except being at the top of my game, assisted by a "team" rooting for me, which is of course what people like Little Miss do (and then of course they are also on other people's teams - their peers in these rarefied environments).

Well, this afternoon I have a voice lesson.  Maybe that will make me feel better.