Six months went by in the blink of an eye and here we are, on the verge of a brand spanking new year.
What caused me to disappear? Or rather, what stifled my voice? My written voice. Hmm, good question. Well, I did go on a grand adventure to France and England. It was just supposed to be France, but like all grand adventures, there were a few surprises.
Over the last six months I’ve been a student. I’ve immersed myself in music full-throttle like it was a fresh romance. I’ve practiced scales, studied theory with a patient tutor, built a small repertoire with a vocal coach and listened to oodles of jazz.
I’m exhausted. Makes me wonder if the honeymoon might be over.
What I haven’t done much of is perform. Like any properly jealous lover, music has kept me away from other people. I’ve gone to a few jams since returning from Europe, but something changed in me. My hunger became different. I could no longer be satisfied with Wednesday night rock jams at the local watering hole. I needed to learn. And so learn I have, but–as with all new and unfamiliar things–that road hasn’t been easy. I feel like I’m playing catch-up in a community full of learned musicians. I still get terminology wrong. I don’t remember everything I need to onstage. I get scared.
What else has kept my voice at bay is this overwhelming feeling that I have nothing pertinent to share with the world. Writing into this void for the sake of the words themselves can be nice. You feel like you’ve accomplished something and by all accounts it certainly looks like you’ve accomplished something. Why, there it is! Right on the interwebs! For all and sundry to gawk at, judge and ultimately dismiss as…what? Vainglorious. After all, that’s what personal blogging truly is–adding your voice to the digital collective, hoping that someone will pick up the sound and carry it back to you.
These days I’m not interested in simply shouting into the void. I want my voice to be used for something else entirely. Creatively speaking, I’m kind of a mess right now. I have a lot of paths that I want to go down, but I can’t seem to settle on one long enough. One day I think it has to be jazz and no other; the next day, I’m leaning a bit more towards pop. Yesterday I thought, “no, Olga. You really ought to put on this here corset and gown and learn a little Puccini.” I can’t settle on anything! I know this, though: damnit, I want to sing. I want to sing so passionately that it’ll bring tears to your eyes and you’ll feel a stirring in your loins.
And so I’m not “choosing” anything. I suspect you’re expecting me to tell you by the end of this post what my new year’s resolution is, Dear Reader. Till now, I haven’t felt like I have one, but I suppose I do: it’s to play music. To keep wrestling with this intense desire and strive for new experiences. And weather each change in my desire as best I can, because it doesn’t stay the same. This period of my life began a year and a half ago and it’s been a whirlwind of change, emotionally and physically. Where it’ll lead to, I have no idea. I hope it leads me to happiness, though. That’s ultimately what you want most in life, right?
Oh, and I resolve to be funnier in the new year. I love puns. I don’t use them nearly enough in life.
Happy New Year!