shut your eyes and sing to me.

809334th verse, same as the first.

I probably don’t need to regale you all yet again with the tales of my low self-esteem and various Issues with my singing voice, but I’m going to force myself to do it anyway because maybe addressing some of these issues will help me sort them out.

…aaaand of course after I write that I immediately distract myself with something else. Good job there.

Aaaand half a day later…

Okay, so. It’s been established that I have Severe Singing Issues. I (kind of) wish I could say that it’s because I really hate singing, but unfortunately that’s not the problem. I love singing. I really, really love singing. And I think that’s actually what the problem is.

Singing, to me, is an expression of my heart and my soul. It’s too important, painfully important, almost. It’s like baring your soul and being judged for it. And if you get it wrong – whoever’s listening – they’ll…find your soul lacking. Imperfect. This is something a friend of mine mentioned in regards to studying and performing classical piano pieces, but I think we all have this feeling with certain things we really want. The things that are the most important to us.

(I am actually reading over this post right now and thinking it’s probably a bad idea to post it; this is a blog about my journey in acting, after all, but I suppose it’s also called “ingenues have feelings too” and I did create the tag “ingenues have too many feelings” for posts like this, as well, so it’s probably going up at least until I decide to take it down later)

Yesterday – and Saturday – Maestro PC and I continued with our work on our Secret Government Eggo Project. (I would like to note here for the record that I do call him Maestro in real life, not Prince Charming.) Saturday we actually got some passable work done, but yesterday…well, he got some lovely work done, but I couldn’t manage to sing anything properly. I don’t know if it’s that I’ve been away from singing lessons for too long and I haven’t been practicing properly, or what. He even started to get annoyed with me, and he (generally) has a lot of patience with my singing panic.

Eventually I literally flopped down on the couch in the most dramatic fashion possible and declared I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t attempting to be dramatic, I really just felt as though I would never, ever get it right and why should I even bother trying? Why should I inflict my inferiority, my mediocrity, on my poor Maestro?

I’m still sitting with that feeling today. Hopefully by Friday – our next scheduled session – I will feel as though I can at least attempt another few takes of what we’re working on. Right now I’m burning a CD that I can warm up to since my thing that plays my iPod over my radio in my car is lost to the ether at the moment. Hopefully that will help a little bit – maybe some proper practice this week will help. Yes.

This post has ceased to make sense and now I am done with it.

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