Welcome to my Parlour ...

Parlour -
A reception room in a private residence.

In this case, the private residence would be the recesses of my mind ...
which can be, at once, a wondrous and a terrifying place to be.
A place of confusion and fear, doubt and despair as I daily tackle the mental health challenges which are my birthright and curse.
But also a place of glorious imagination and profound Faith borne from the wellspring of my lifelong spiritual quest for understanding and self-mastery and the power, subtle and real, this Path has granted me.

This Parlour, then, would be that little space where the outside world may meet MY reality.

Truly, there's no telling what one may find posted here.
Ultimately this space is for myself, although others are welcome to stay a while provided they don't mind the spider.

~ Go dtugtar breith orainn dá réir ár ngníomhartha. ~
(Let us, by our actions, be judged)

Saturday 29 May 2021

Elephant has my tongue...

I'm working at getting my voice back. 
I may have mentioned it before. 

So, I keep swinging back and forth between starting to think I might actually be hearing some improvement and absolutely hating how I sound. 

Since there is no way to sing aloud without drawing attention if any one is within earshot, my avoidant arse is finding it challenging to practice regularly. I sing mostly in the van on my way to and from work and, occasionally, while on the job site. I secured a pair of bone conduction earphones to practice with which allows me to use vocal apps on my phone to record, save, and playback practice. What I hear through the playback feature is the hardest to handle; no music recorded (I play the songs on my iPhone with the headphones and record via the apps on my iPad), only my pitiful voice with nothing for it to hide behind. 

Tho generally in tune, I'm sadly out of pitch and I wind extremely easily. My asthma/emphysema messes with my ability to draw enough air quickly while the phlegm in the bottom of my lungs is unpredictable as it randomly breaks free and tries to suffocate me. Having a large glob of thick mucus come blasting through one's vocal cords while trying to sing can make for a thick uncontrolled sound or a violent coughing fit with whatever air is in my lungs (that I was trying to sing with). Any confidence I have in my voice, which I might build while driving, is stripped away soon as I listen to a practice recording. 

Muscle memory helps from time to time - every once in a while I manage a lateral breath (which is the trick that allows a singer to draw a larger quantity of air very quick between lines). It was an interesting moment, while singing Elton John's "That's Why They Call It The Blues" on my way home one morning last week, when I felt my ribs move laterally for the first time since I was 13. Bittersweet was my reaction, with tears in my eyes, as I remembered what that particular proprioceptive sensation was and how easily I used to do it. 

It's tough not to get discouraged in particular when I have ear enough to hear just how rusty my voice is. While not perfect pitch, my ear is pretty close... I likely had PP as a child but hearing loss does play a factor in creating a greater challenge to getting it right. I also am having trouble with the top of the higher and bottom of the lower octave... As I can remember hitting the notes in question back in the day, I suspect that I can, with work, reclaim at least some of my former range. The trouble is in keeping my enthusiasm for trying while the demons in my head -- hypercritical thoughts that are designed to wear away self-esteem -- wreak havoc. 

I think it's safe, at this point, to call my voice Alto in range. 

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