Fail Better
Jean says I’m no longer allowed to say I’m not an actor. And apparently I’m too young to have a midlife crisis. So i guess this thing is really happening in a couple of weeks.
I am having some real vocal issues. Dry, scratchy, irritated throat. Over usage? Maybe. Allergies? Probably, knowing me.
But also there’s the problem of not having a trained instrument anymore. 2 days out from my last rehearsal and I definitely do feel better. Drinking my body weight in tea and cleaning the Brita filter helped.
Any of your readers out there also performers? Anyone have some voice protecting ideas for me?
Theoretically meeting a vocal coach next week which should be exciting.
Thinking about this question of identity. For a long time I was trying to find a way to call myself an artist, find something that identified me in that way since I hadn’t been on the stage in so long. Knitting mostly. Being a fiber artisan. Which is actually great. I still love it. In fact, I’ve got knitting ready to be finished before I go, or to take with me to Milwaukee tonight, whichever comes first. (Milwaukee. Dance show with Yehuda Hyman. The Mad 7. Good stuff.)
But since I’ve come back to this work, to something that feels so very right for me at this time, I have been reticent to call myself an artist.
Perhaps I am reluctant to accept change. Even positive change in me. But the fact is that I am much happier with this new outlet in my life. Who knows what will happen when we close, as I don’t expect to go back on stage again.
I have a copy of The Happiness Project sitting in my bag ready to go to the airport with me. It seems like everyone and their mom is reading self help books. They came back in with Eat, Pray, Love. And I’m looking to get Spirit Junkie by Gabrielle Bernstein from the library. Also Lindsay was telling me about some book that debunks these self help books. I shall read them all in my copious un-Becketted spare time.
And yes in case you’re curious I do have a copy of the Artist’s Way sitting on my shelf. Thanks Leena. I’ll get to it eventually.
Or maybe I just need to get over it and think that if I’m making art, then I’m an artist. Once who has to take care of her voice.
Yay for knowing who you are.
