That wasn't what I expected
Sat, Jun. 23rd, 2018 09:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So, the recital. I spent the morning preparing: warming up, practicing, napping, showering, dressing, doing makeup, practicing, sounding good, going over to the venue. More warming up outside. In the allergens.
Many friends came--one friend said that my entourage was fully a quarter of the audience, which is entirely possible. I love my people with a giant, overwhelming love. My song was scheduled at the exact middle of the hour.
I hadn't seen any of the other students but one before, so it was a treat to see all the other people that my coach works with: everything from pre-teens to a retiree (who was, in fact, older than me). The kids were, predictably, adorable. The older gentleman was terrific. We adults in the middle were more of a mixed bag: some clear beginners and a couple of very good ones.
My song landed in the exact middle of the program. I started to sing. Everything felt and sounded wrong: chesty, froggy, awful. I got two thirds of the way through my song and asked the pianist to stop. I asked him if he was playing it lower than we practiced. My coach said that, no, it was right where we always sang it. My teacher reassured me that was true. I asked if we could start again.
And then, I don't remember a thing. I don't remember singing the song a second time, though I know I did. I don't remember leaving the stage. The next thing I remember, I was standing next to my teacher telling her I hoped I hadn't panicked her.
I watched the rest of the program, chatted with friends and the other students afterwards. Went to lunch with my friend LS. Came home.
Had dinner out tonight with friends. I still don't remember a damn thing about the second part of my performance. My friends were kind enough to say that the second time was great. I have absolutely no memory of it. In all of my experience in front of people, this has never happened. Not once. I am always preternaturally self-aware in front of people. This was unprecedented. I have to take people at their word that I was good. It's a hard leap of faith for me. But I did it. On to the next thing.
Many friends came--one friend said that my entourage was fully a quarter of the audience, which is entirely possible. I love my people with a giant, overwhelming love. My song was scheduled at the exact middle of the hour.
I hadn't seen any of the other students but one before, so it was a treat to see all the other people that my coach works with: everything from pre-teens to a retiree (who was, in fact, older than me). The kids were, predictably, adorable. The older gentleman was terrific. We adults in the middle were more of a mixed bag: some clear beginners and a couple of very good ones.
My song landed in the exact middle of the program. I started to sing. Everything felt and sounded wrong: chesty, froggy, awful. I got two thirds of the way through my song and asked the pianist to stop. I asked him if he was playing it lower than we practiced. My coach said that, no, it was right where we always sang it. My teacher reassured me that was true. I asked if we could start again.
And then, I don't remember a thing. I don't remember singing the song a second time, though I know I did. I don't remember leaving the stage. The next thing I remember, I was standing next to my teacher telling her I hoped I hadn't panicked her.
I watched the rest of the program, chatted with friends and the other students afterwards. Went to lunch with my friend LS. Came home.
Had dinner out tonight with friends. I still don't remember a damn thing about the second part of my performance. My friends were kind enough to say that the second time was great. I have absolutely no memory of it. In all of my experience in front of people, this has never happened. Not once. I am always preternaturally self-aware in front of people. This was unprecedented. I have to take people at their word that I was good. It's a hard leap of faith for me. But I did it. On to the next thing.
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