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Thursday, April 06, 2006
This morning I raced the storms in, leaving in the rain but arriving before the downright downpours. Would I have left in the wild stuff? I'm not sure. (It's not as if it would have saved time; I have to pump up my car tires if I'm going that way, and I really should have taken care of that already already. No, really, I'll go to GoodYear next week, really. )
Endorphins happen in the rain, too.
I am going to have an "inservice" session on cycling and commuting. This means an email telling people about it. This means links on the email.
People *do* look at you oddly when you are pedaling wildly to get to choir practice, which in the past you'd have seen as a reason to take the car to get there sooner but priorities seem to have shifted, and you feel compelled to warm up your tonsils (because class ends at 7:50, choir practice is at 8:00 and is 5 miles away so they'll have started already).
Singing soprano is a little bit like riding the bike in the rain. It involves changing the odd paradigm. My alto self wanders to the high notes and shrinks, because it assumes I will be less accurate and that the sopranos will take over.
The soprano self, though, has been nudged out of the shadows by circumstances including standing between sopranos - the human animal really does automatically & unconsciously imitate the motor actions, especially those involving the voice, of those nearby. Somehow, if I pretend I'm standing next to Lorna now, it still happens. Muscles relax and open instead of tightening and shrinking. Sometimes something like the right note even comes out. It uses different parts of the brain; it's much more motor than mental and a lot better workout! Kinda like when you get to that point on the bicycle when you can stretch out and pedal **hard** for a pretty long time, and the whole body is in tune... or I hope it will be; there have been moments that hint of it. I'll try not to make the mistake of anticipating it - flow with the go....
Endorphins happen in the rain, too.
I am going to have an "inservice" session on cycling and commuting. This means an email telling people about it. This means links on the email.
People *do* look at you oddly when you are pedaling wildly to get to choir practice, which in the past you'd have seen as a reason to take the car to get there sooner but priorities seem to have shifted, and you feel compelled to warm up your tonsils (because class ends at 7:50, choir practice is at 8:00 and is 5 miles away so they'll have started already).
Singing soprano is a little bit like riding the bike in the rain. It involves changing the odd paradigm. My alto self wanders to the high notes and shrinks, because it assumes I will be less accurate and that the sopranos will take over.
The soprano self, though, has been nudged out of the shadows by circumstances including standing between sopranos - the human animal really does automatically & unconsciously imitate the motor actions, especially those involving the voice, of those nearby. Somehow, if I pretend I'm standing next to Lorna now, it still happens. Muscles relax and open instead of tightening and shrinking. Sometimes something like the right note even comes out. It uses different parts of the brain; it's much more motor than mental and a lot better workout! Kinda like when you get to that point on the bicycle when you can stretch out and pedal **hard** for a pretty long time, and the whole body is in tune... or I hope it will be; there have been moments that hint of it. I'll try not to make the mistake of anticipating it - flow with the go....
