clevermanka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2019-12-28 10:20 am
clevermanka) wrote2019-12-28 10:20 am
Entry tags:
Sing sing sing
A long time ago I used to sing. I didn't have a great natural voice. It wasn't strong and it wasn't distinctive, but by the time I was an early teen I had a nearly four-octave range and stellar breath control. If my voice was a model, an agent would've said it had good bones. Enough to hang a dress on anyway, and with enough work and practice it could've been good. I was fine for choral work since I could sing everything from tenor to soprano. I could also modulate/mimic to fit someone else's style which made me a good fit for close harmonies with a soloist.
After seven years of piano lessons (which I despised), my mother finally enrolled me in vocal lessons* my senior year of high school and then I went to college. Started drinking, started smoking, stopped singing. Thirty years later, only like three people have heard me sing in the last two decades. Sometimes when I'm signing along with something I can tell I'm not quite hitting the notes and it makes me cringe.
*Thus capping an entire childhood of my parents paying minimal attention to my few natural talents
Not going anywhere with this yet, and not looking for sympathy. I long ago came to grips with the fact that I wasn't willing to put in the time and effort to get my voice back, so that's very much my choice. But as I have with too many other things lately, I've been curling up in the what-if of it. What if I'd done this or that, gone here or there? IDK, I might expand this into a larger essay at some point but right now I'm trying to avoid tipping over into nostalgia.
This post brought to you by "2020 is the year of There's No Such Thing as Can't Sing" (found on Twitter) and I love that sentiment but I'm still not gonna be joining in your karoke nights. Y'all have fun, though, and I'll sing quiet harmony from my table in the audience.
After seven years of piano lessons (which I despised), my mother finally enrolled me in vocal lessons* my senior year of high school and then I went to college. Started drinking, started smoking, stopped singing. Thirty years later, only like three people have heard me sing in the last two decades. Sometimes when I'm signing along with something I can tell I'm not quite hitting the notes and it makes me cringe.
*Thus capping an entire childhood of my parents paying minimal attention to my few natural talents
Not going anywhere with this yet, and not looking for sympathy. I long ago came to grips with the fact that I wasn't willing to put in the time and effort to get my voice back, so that's very much my choice. But as I have with too many other things lately, I've been curling up in the what-if of it. What if I'd done this or that, gone here or there? IDK, I might expand this into a larger essay at some point but right now I'm trying to avoid tipping over into nostalgia.
This post brought to you by "2020 is the year of There's No Such Thing as Can't Sing" (found on Twitter) and I love that sentiment but I'm still not gonna be joining in your karoke nights. Y'all have fun, though, and I'll sing quiet harmony from my table in the audience.
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