Ugh!

Rats! Curses!

It’s hard to feel like “Success is showing up” when you show up with quivering voice, forgetting your breath, ruining your phrasology and musicality. It was… not good.

First, the age-old problem of hands. What the hell do I do with my hands? Amateur! You never clasp your hands. If you can’t engage in a natural way, they hang at your side!

Next, eye contact… I could NOT look at them. So I tried the over-their-heads trick, but then I thought, “No, you’ve already broken the fourth wall. Too late to sing to an invisible audience now. PERFORM! Look at them and sell it!”

So there’s ME have this internal dialogue – not a character, not a professional – lacking any joie de vivre! I was completely removed, talking to myself, not to them.

You know what’s worse than singing a big song? Disappearing inside of it. “You Can Always Count On Me” is such an easy piece to love, but I was a frightened little girl, certainly no woman known by “lots of smirking motel clerks who call me Mrs. Smith.”

They did let me finish. It was hell, but the girl before me was cut off. I think they could see that I can sing; I was nervous. They gave me ample time and opportunity to relax into my performance. I didn’t! In the second verse, I made exactly the same mistakes with my breath as I did in the first. Only this time, rather than cheat the breath in, I just ran out and faltered weakly at the end of the phrase!

I’m disappointed. But resolved, I suppose. Voice lessons it is. I didn’t practice sufficiently. That’s all there is to it.

They liked my joke. šŸ™‚

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