Music todayGospel according to darkness"song by Jane Siberry
Book:Jitterbug Perfume:Priscilla joins the Daughers of the Daily Special
Monday, Sept. 15, 2003 - 1:23 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Nonresonant voices crying
Another day another ... another what?
Another diary entry. More ups and downs. Today singing... voice workshop had only 4 women at it so was quite intensive. Some great exercises. Laying on our backs in a circle with our heads towards center, we had to break down our names into separate sounds, and then sing these sounds in different manners, making a choral composition with everyone else's voices. Beautiful and touching. I had a very hard moment when, after saying our name out loud as if we were being called (interesting how some people seem to have been called by demanding parents and others by wistful lovers!), we had to say our name out loud the way someone said it with love and affection. Now, most everyone calls me Leanne, and says it much like I would say it, except for ob, and while others were coming up with sweet diminutives of their names that others had given them, i just started crying and had to pass. I couldnt say "dirty wench" or "my girl" or "missredblacklips" or even just leanne in such a loved way... even writing this now makes me cry. I feel so heartbroken.
Judging myself... oversensitive to others' reactions... am i speaking too much, too loud, too insistently, with not enough resonance (one woman in the class had the most beautiful resonant voice, whether speaking or singing), am i saying annoying things, complaining, defending, contradicting. Back in a space of criticising myself, hating what i hear, hating what i say, do, the giving of opinions when perhaps silence is desired, the asking of opinions when i should be quiet with myself. Crying when i should be singing. SInging when i should be quiet. Sometimes i damn my voice. Damn that i am so vocal. Wish that i were one of those people who have a hard time getting a word out... so much nicer, easier to be around. Those people you want to draw out, listen to, encourage. Not shut up, tolerate, run from.
I am being hard on myself today.
And others arent helping... "take a deep breathe", "don't think", "stop talking", "breathe". I dont want to stop thinking and talking and breathe... perhaps then i feel and cry and feel and cry. I do that enough... home alone, breathing, crying, feeling, crying, breathing, feeling.... ad nauseum.
So missing ob. When i have opinions about the unholynite group i want to talk with her. When i feel self-critical i want to hear her tell me i am right, or that i shouldnt apologize, that she doesnt understand why people dont 'get' me. But the one person who loved me and was happy to have me around in my noisy chatty complaining glory is gone. I want a hug. I want someone, a friend, a lover, a partner, i want someone who loves me.
All i can say is that i must be just the epitome of normality, since i keep listening to singers sing songs that say what i feel, say what i've gone through, ... so I cannot be any worse than Annie Lennox (unless she is singing someone else's life, which i doubt). My pains and fears and concerns are so mundane and so universally common it seems ridiculous to speak of them or to call friends for support.
I felt so not alone when I had ob. A friend, someone to trust, a partner in crime and adventure. Someone to share music, books, art, funny stories, sad times... I have to let her go. so hard. so hard.
I am so sick of being sad. But i guess so is everyone else.
New music to look for: When i was a boy" by Jane Siberry... I hadnt heard of it, but she was on the radio today. Thankgod for the radio.
I'll try to find it used... spending too much money lately.
Well, gotta go back to work.
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily