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Jun. 10th, 2003 10:04 amI think that horrible flu might have been the best thing that's ever happened to my voice. Even after I was better, I had about two weeks where I felt like I litterally had something sitting on my vocal cords -- not phlegm or anything, I just felt unright, as if there was a small creature with horns, a tail and blue scales interfering with my ability to make sound.
My last voice lesson (which was several weeks ago, and still in that stage of things) found me being able to hit higher notes that I ever have before with more strength and clarity than I ever have before, but again, the thing was still kind over there, and I kept disolving into coughing fits.
Somewhere in the last week, I've started singing along with things I simply shouldn't have the capacity to sing along with, in a range and at a volume that is incomprehensible to me. And while it needs a lot of work in terms of quality, it's literally miles in terms of "prettiness" from what I was doing just before I got sick.
And the thing isn't in my throat anymore either. And I'm sort of weirded out by the entire affair in a way I don't really know how to explain (and has little to do with either the supernatural metaphor or my current listening and singing along with habits).
I spend a great deal of time being very clear that I don't want to be a great singer, just competent enough that it doesn't really exclude me from anything non-singing focused that requires a bit of a tune. And this remains absolutely true -- music has always been one of my more private passions, both in terms of listening to it and playing it. But that said, I'm starting to get the feeling that I might one day be really fucking good at it, even if it's never my defining thing in the least. And that's just bloody peculiar.
My last voice lesson (which was several weeks ago, and still in that stage of things) found me being able to hit higher notes that I ever have before with more strength and clarity than I ever have before, but again, the thing was still kind over there, and I kept disolving into coughing fits.
Somewhere in the last week, I've started singing along with things I simply shouldn't have the capacity to sing along with, in a range and at a volume that is incomprehensible to me. And while it needs a lot of work in terms of quality, it's literally miles in terms of "prettiness" from what I was doing just before I got sick.
And the thing isn't in my throat anymore either. And I'm sort of weirded out by the entire affair in a way I don't really know how to explain (and has little to do with either the supernatural metaphor or my current listening and singing along with habits).
I spend a great deal of time being very clear that I don't want to be a great singer, just competent enough that it doesn't really exclude me from anything non-singing focused that requires a bit of a tune. And this remains absolutely true -- music has always been one of my more private passions, both in terms of listening to it and playing it. But that said, I'm starting to get the feeling that I might one day be really fucking good at it, even if it's never my defining thing in the least. And that's just bloody peculiar.
