I had an audition today!
It was *just* for the Messiah sing that is apparently supposed to happen at Eastman every year, but they didn’t do it last year and now I have auditioned, and it was a blast! Granted I felt like projectile vomiting everywhere before hand, but it was so fun!
I sang my very first recit ever (and it was fun!) and I sang a little aria (also fun!) and then I left (the very best part!), but I was happy with myself, and with my singing. It’s all a balancing act, almost a power struggle between my body, that mostly knows what it should be doing, my mind, that tries to remind the body but sometimes short-circuits, and my nerves, that never cease to attempt sabotage of the worst and most mutinous kind, every time.
But I sang, and now I want to sing some more, and that’s ultimately why I’m here. So, I’m going to go practice. Because I’m happy.
Aptly, “Affanni del pensier” (Handel) is a perfect description of my opinion of juries. I am excited and terrified, and sick with it. And I’d give anything for a moment of peace, at least.
I rehearse today at 4 with my professor in the Black Box of Doom (804). Again. And hopefully this time I will be able to add some artistry to the aria I received just over two weeks ago. To some, this might seem like no time at all in which to master the music. I, on the other hand, am not a super great memorizer (or writer, right now, apparently). I also have a shit ton of other stuff going on. That’s not an excuse, it’s just the truth. My planner is riddled with scribbles: “E-mail these people. Composition assignment draft; theory (theme and variations worksheet). Aural skills: practice. Rehearse- 4oo” and so on and so on.
I forgot to eat again today. This is the second time it’s happened. So, to make up for it, I bought myself an amazing sandwich at Java’s. But I’m still shaky, still feeling the aftereffects of being stupid and not nourishing myself. I didn’t want another stupid bagel again, though! And that’s pretty much the only good thing I can identify in that pathetic little food-providing institution they call the Pit.
Anyway. So I’m a little twitchy and full and nervy right now. I’ve got an hour and six minutes to solidify Affanni before Ciesinski hears it again. I might sing it through to myself here, then read it: again and again and again. Then sing through it softly one more time. I might speak the words in the order they go in. I don’t know.
I just want to do well. I’m working for it; I’m trying. I’m trying.
So I’ve been looking at writerstore.com’s articles lately. I encountered one about writer’s block and lack of motivation and it said stuff about just writing and writing and writing and not minding if it’s crap; I suppose that’s helpful. I mean, having the words in front of you is better than not seeing them, not knowing what’s going on. Even if it’s just a literal stream-of-conciousness based flow of words, it’s something.
I should probably be doing something a little more useful right now. I got back from theory (and my quiz, and the fastest part-writing I’ve ever done) in order to eat a bagel and drink some milk, and zone out with TV for, oh, an hour and a half. Frankly, I’m calling myself out on this right now. So pathetic. Just a time-waster. I should be practicing, or working on my music ed hours, or even printing off my resume for SA nominations. But I didn’t, and I haven’t, and that time’s gone again. Oh well? I suppose.
I still have a full hour before I have to leave for aural skillz, though. So, hey, I’ll make some coffee and finish some paperwork and maybe even crank out that theory packet for Thursday. Then I’ll head to aural, then lug my clarinet and piano books to the practice rooms for two hours before ed psych. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to rehearse Affanni before studio tonight… merda, if I don’t make sure that shit’s solidly memorized, I am screeeewed.
So yeah. Here’s my writing and writing and writing and not minding if it’s crap for the day. Time to actually go do something.