The Lesson

I was glad that the alarm didn't have to wake me up.  I'm in California. Of course it doesn't!!  Every time I'm here, that's the first thought that comes to my mind.  It's a sort of brush with unbelievable reality.  Like waking up next to that special someone.  The warmth and all the love you feel and share.  And although for me there wasn't warm love of an actual body, but an atmosphere.  New air and space.  Waking up in California.  It never disappoints...

I still felt tenuous about the lesson.  Hadn't really practiced, didn't have all the right music, wasn't really looking forward to the "big" confrontation with my teacher over wanting to venture on to a young artist program.  At the same time, I was willing to face all of it, knowing that all would be well and I'd have a clearer outlook afterwards.  It was going to be okay.  The morning was so easy.  The Continental breakfast, complete with my favorite fancy flavored tea, spice chai pomegranate I think, was good.  My hair fell into place.  My favorite dress was barely wrinkled from the suitcase.  My makeup was subtle, glowing, and even hid the previous days of worry and lack of sleep.

I arrived to my teacher's house in Fresno with time to spare.  The drive had been thoughtful.  Cruise controlled nearly the whole way.  But as I walked up to the door and rang, an awkwardness began to set in.  My mind wasn't clear.  I felt tossed and disconnected.  Numb.  My outward composed self suddenly mismatched the inside. 

We started with talking as we always do.  She mentioned the y.a. program issue.  I listened, then mildly expressed my view of things.  She tried to refrain from making a forceful opinion, but her opinion was made no less.  I combated with a diplomatic display of knowledge.  She slightly conceded.  I was glad she knew not to push any further.  I changed, or rather progressed, to a different area of focus.  My current dependence on a day job and how (although a huge blessing to my life) it's robbing me of precious singing and time.  And here's where she completely surprised me.  She suggested that I start my own business to take with me anywhere I needed/wanted to be.  A non-profit she said.  I told her I'd thought about it.

The truth is, I had thought about it.  I'd even started (or attempted to) one some years back.  I have ideas and much more experience to execute it now.  Back then it was just a fun mission.  Now, there's much more to gain, better motives behind it all.  It could maybe work this time.  After the talking came singing.  Come scoglio from "Cosi fan tutte," Mozart.  Next, Suicidio from "La Gioconda."  Last, Ebben? Ne andro lontana from "La Wally,"   I felt like I sounded really good, like my voice wasn't so uncertain.  I could craft it better.  My breathing was better.  I responded to her correction better.  The first audition will test me.

I left the lesson feeling satisfied and the thought that I had 32 more hours to enjoy my California solidified it.  Where would I go?  Ah yes, Carmel.  I accidentally arrived at sunset not fully aware of why so many people were simply standing around with cameras.  I mean,  the water was gorgeous, the sand a pale clean beige, but I just thought the holiday brought on the hearty audience.  I'd never really been to a chilly beach before, but it was yet another new and nice thing.  I didn't even grimace as the near icy high tides chased and caught my wanting feet, occasionally gushing up my legs in cool surprises.  Toddlers ran after panting doggies, couples snuggled a little closer, families toasted togetherness.  I was one of the few alone on the beach.  I felt it, but once the last lip of orange dipped down into the horizon I was in the certain company of applause that broke out all around.  New, nice.  Bravo sun, bravo...

Question of the day: Is where you're living the right atmosphere for your best self?

When they ask you, say "Yes"

I have all of $3 to my name at the moment.  And for good reason.  I paid all my bills up so that I could go to San Francisco free and clear next weekend.  Between my get-through-the-week stash tucked away in my Nashville apartment and a few dollars my mom was supposed to give me from some medicine I'd purchased for her a couple weeks ago, I was "scheduled" to be okay.

Any time you go into a hospital there are tons of questions asked.  Medical history, level of pain, dietary choice, DNR or not to DNR.  But it's the questions asked to those who are dealing with the illness or difficult circumstance surrounding a loved one that give me the most trouble.  It's the "Do you need anything?" type of questions.  I don't know why communicating that I do actually need something when asked this is one of the most uncomfortable feelings on earth.  For me, at least.  Right now, me and my light purse need to say yes to that question as often as I can.  "Yes, " I would like some lunch."  "Yes, I do need a little cash to hold me over."  Today I said it twice and you better believe that I feel so much better with a full belly and gas money!  But why the awky process?  Pride?  No.  Fear of being demoted from super heroine to non-self-reliant?  Maybe.
My mother is in a lot of pain right now, but in her sub awareness she always says "No" when asked if she's in pain, amidst waves of whincing and grunting.  Working with the moderate coherence she does have I've been trying to prompt her each time she moans.  "When they ask you if you are having any pain, say 'Yes.'  So what are you going to say now?"  "Yes."  ..."okay, good."  That way you won't have to hurt anymore.  Nurse: "Are you having any pain, Mrs. King?" Mom: (faintly): "No..."  *whince*grunt*moan*

In other news, I made a step in the right direction and brought a couple of my opera books to the hospital with me.  Did I open them?  Ummm, that would be a No.  I am once again hopeful for tomorrow...six days until lesson time and counting.  As of right now, I'm still planning on making the trip.  I need this.  I need to feel like I am still moving in a vocal direction eventhough I'm mostly caught up in a holding pattern.  I have to say "Yes" and feel the relief, the loosening of the burden, the lifting of the veil when someone asks if they can do anything.  Now, let's just hope they ask...

My mother just said "Yes" too.  At long last, morphine winds its slow way up the IV tube...

Question of the day: Are you taking on things all by yourself that would be made easier if you would just say "YES" to help?

New Direction...The Sammie/Julie/Julia Project...

It's Blog Relaunch Day!!!!!

Okay, so I'm an abandoner...I began this blog a year ago upon anticipating my move to Fresno. What I wanted: A courageous tale about a young woman finally reaching her dreams!! What it turned into: Endless droning about the awfulness of central California and my depressing internal state!! BUT!! I now have a plan. On August 14th, I watched the movie Julie & Julia three, no four, times. Coincidentally, I found "The Juile/Julia Project" actually still in its raw form on salon.com. Read along with me here: http://blogs.salon.com/0001399/2002/08/25.html

I think Mrs. Powell and I have a lot in common. Well, that is, when she first started her life-altering project. Likewise coincidental, she began on August 25th, 2002. So, eight years later, I link up with JP in an attempt to change my own life with only one simple rule: For every day that she wrote about her journey through the Julia Child cookbook, so shall I write about my quest for full-time operahood.  So no, I won't be cooking, with the intent to write about it, anyway.  I'm a good cook and I love doing so, but here's my take.  My mother is ill. Cancer. "There's nothing we can do." 4-6 months they say. HA! Only GOD has the final say!! Knowing her, she'll be smiling and kickin 4-6 years from now!!! Reality sets back in...

I'm an opera singer. She wanted to be an opera singer. She wants me to be all the opera singer both she and I were/are supposed to be. So, I have the rest of her life to sing my way into some opera grandeur - whether landing a contract, winning mega opera competition(s), encountering a magical moment when that particular career-enabling someone just happens to hear me.  Oh say, during "borrowed" time in a Blair School of Music practice room at Vanderbilt or some other random juncture that would make for good storytelling!

Audition season is upon thousands of singers with the same objective (hopefully without the ailing parent part.) So, applications are going out, new arias and art songs being researched and memorized, cross country treks to lessons are being booked. I'm just going to sing. If they want me, great. If not, don't ask me what I'll do then, but this process is not about that. It's about the one and only opportunity I have to make my mother's final resting pillow plush with the news that her daughter has plenty of places to sing...

Aaaaannnnddd..ACTION!! Buona voce!!

(The one thing I am keeping from the old blog format...) Question of the day: Don't you think it's time to relaunch some things in your life?