Today has been an oddly productive day, despite my 4 am rise and my 2 hour nap between the hours of 11 am and 1 pm. I got some more work done on my new website- www.rebelspiritmusic.com. Don't know how much I have let on about this, because after all this blog is supposed to be about me recovering from vocal surgery to go on and become the next Barbra Streisand or something, but I might as well give you all of me!
I am not very good at sitting still. A lot of people would giver their right arm to just "have to take" a few months off. They'd do things for and by themselves, read, travel, catch up on movies, go to museums, sleep in and so on. Not I. Sitting still makes me nervous and being unproductive makes me nervous. That may be why I have a hard time just calling myself a musician and songwriter, sitting with that and working at it. The minute I hit a creative lull I am working on another project, always music or entertainment related, don't get me wrong, I am not that renaissance.
This time around I have decided to take all of my friends who constantly do each other favors in the biz, be it design fliers, websites and such to booking friends bands at clubs they otherwise can't get into and introducing each other to "the right people" in the biz who can help make things happen. As artists we all have talents (other then musical talents) to offer one another, so I thought why not combine resources, information and try to help each other out.
So rebel spirit music came about, company name borrowed from an old company Dean used to own and the rest of the idea concocted by myself and my friend, and fantastic photographer (also massively stubborn but dynamic all the same) Nicole. Nicole is Dean's flat mate. I say flat mate now instead of roommate because Dean is English and English terms are just so much cuter then American terms!
Anyway- we have gathered lots of information, lots of supporters and even a monthly residency at one of our favorite local music venues and we are going to brand the hell out of rebel spirit! What do we do? Well it is all coming together, whether it will fall into place as an on line musicians network, an online music magazine, a monthly music event, a consulting company, or everything, it will fall!
So lucky for me- that is what has been keeping me busy all through my last few months. Maybe you thought I was sitting in silence writing my next hit record (ok it would be my first if it became a hit at all), you might think that, and perhaps it would have been a better way to spend my time. But I am pretty excited about this!
There is nothing I love more then music and the people that make it amaze me every day! SO organizing that into one little website seems to me like a productive thing to do.
Don't get me wrong- there has already been drama- Nicole and I fighting over flier designs, dean and i fighting over what belongs to who. But I just don't do anything without drama and I am terrible at letting up any control. So this and I ain't perfect. But what is! At least I didn't spend my 2 weeks in silence watching sex and the city episodes for the 78th time in a row.
Not that that sounds so bad once I write it out like that.
hmmmm......
xRed Out Loud
Thursday, October 25, 2007
OMG!!
Oh. My. God.
I can not believe that I have not written for so many days! I am a horrible tease! I write and write and write when I can do nothing but and now that I can speak I have forgotten about all things important! :) So now at 5:32 am on Thursday October 25th I am here!
How far back shall I take you?
On October 18th I arrived at Dr. Woo's office for my post op check up and what would be my first voice therapy session and what would be the first time I heard my voice. It was 6 days post op- meaning I did not have to wait the full 7 days, but I still think it is pretty huge that I lasted even 6 days!!! If you know me or can tell by how long my entries are, you know I have many words and I am not quiet about it.
But it was a lovely week (6 days) and truthfully it was so lovely that it got kind of addictive and between you and I, I was not that excited to begin speaking again.
I know- that sounds crazy! This is not to say I was not excited to begin my road towards singing again. THAT I was excited for....but speaking. For 6 days I did not have to answer to anyone and I mean that literally. I wrote things down of course, when I needed something or wanted to partake in a conversation, but I had this fortunate excuse when I did not want to participate, for why I couldn't. And as I had described in earlier passages it it got me out of arguments that would have ultimately escalated and that was a plus but it also prevented me from talking about how I felt about what I was going through and forced me to go through it alone, which I did not mind. I did not even want visitors, "no fun to have a visitor when you can't chat, I'd much rather be alone," I would think to myself. And I did, I thought to myself, I asked my self tons of questions and when my psycho therapist mother would ask me the dreaded question- how are you today? Is this hard for you? Are you upset? (ok that was 3 questions) I would not have to answer!
And the truth was, I wasn't upset by it! I enjoyed the silence. I never enjoyed silence before because I don't think i gave it a chance to seep in and work it magic. But there I was with only me to talk to (and of course you) (and of course my buddy list, my g chat list and e mail) (But still)!
I talked to myself about everything but mostly I thought about my relationships. My friends, my family, my boyfriend and I made realizations. I rely on my relationships to feed me, but do I feed them? And while I am so busy letting my relationships feed me, do I ever feed myself? And the answer was no, I love the attention I get from all of my relationships, I love being paid attention to it and I think being alone in the past made me hunger for that. Attention and busyness. Being ALONE meant being lonely. But my 6 day silence taught me otherwise. I could be alone, chat with myself and feel quite satisfied.
And now that I can speak again, I am excited to speak to the people I love, but I have not jumped back in and not just because my doc told me not to, but because I sort of enjoy space. And between you and I, I think it's making the people I love like me back a lot more, some people have even claimed to miss me!
I miss you too! Maybe that is a good thing!
xRed Out Loud
I can not believe that I have not written for so many days! I am a horrible tease! I write and write and write when I can do nothing but and now that I can speak I have forgotten about all things important! :) So now at 5:32 am on Thursday October 25th I am here!
How far back shall I take you?
On October 18th I arrived at Dr. Woo's office for my post op check up and what would be my first voice therapy session and what would be the first time I heard my voice. It was 6 days post op- meaning I did not have to wait the full 7 days, but I still think it is pretty huge that I lasted even 6 days!!! If you know me or can tell by how long my entries are, you know I have many words and I am not quiet about it.
But it was a lovely week (6 days) and truthfully it was so lovely that it got kind of addictive and between you and I, I was not that excited to begin speaking again.
I know- that sounds crazy! This is not to say I was not excited to begin my road towards singing again. THAT I was excited for....but speaking. For 6 days I did not have to answer to anyone and I mean that literally. I wrote things down of course, when I needed something or wanted to partake in a conversation, but I had this fortunate excuse when I did not want to participate, for why I couldn't. And as I had described in earlier passages it it got me out of arguments that would have ultimately escalated and that was a plus but it also prevented me from talking about how I felt about what I was going through and forced me to go through it alone, which I did not mind. I did not even want visitors, "no fun to have a visitor when you can't chat, I'd much rather be alone," I would think to myself. And I did, I thought to myself, I asked my self tons of questions and when my psycho therapist mother would ask me the dreaded question- how are you today? Is this hard for you? Are you upset? (ok that was 3 questions) I would not have to answer!
And the truth was, I wasn't upset by it! I enjoyed the silence. I never enjoyed silence before because I don't think i gave it a chance to seep in and work it magic. But there I was with only me to talk to (and of course you) (and of course my buddy list, my g chat list and e mail) (But still)!
I talked to myself about everything but mostly I thought about my relationships. My friends, my family, my boyfriend and I made realizations. I rely on my relationships to feed me, but do I feed them? And while I am so busy letting my relationships feed me, do I ever feed myself? And the answer was no, I love the attention I get from all of my relationships, I love being paid attention to it and I think being alone in the past made me hunger for that. Attention and busyness. Being ALONE meant being lonely. But my 6 day silence taught me otherwise. I could be alone, chat with myself and feel quite satisfied.
And now that I can speak again, I am excited to speak to the people I love, but I have not jumped back in and not just because my doc told me not to, but because I sort of enjoy space. And between you and I, I think it's making the people I love like me back a lot more, some people have even claimed to miss me!
I miss you too! Maybe that is a good thing!
xRed Out Loud
Thursday, October 18, 2007
'Til Death Do Us Part
Why do you think people choose to hurt each other and themselves instead of working hard to remain happy. It seems that, at least this generation of men and women, have decided the easier way out is to hurt and get over it then to commit, work hard and accept bad times as part of the good.
Men and women are independent and think they can probably be that way forever, so love happens less frequently. Real love, dependent love. People, I find, quit while they are ahead.
It's hard not to quit. It's hard not to quit anything you do, it's hard not to quit anything you love. If you quit, it won't hurt as much if you fail. And you will never know if you would have failed.
My friend has been seeing a man who she really felt something for. Now this is a friend who does not shy away from serious relationships. She goes for it each time, works at it, analyzes it, give it a good chance. They just seem to fail for one reason or another. Generally she gives up on them, after good thought, she decides it is not for her, one reason or another.
Only this time, the man she was seeing decided to give up on her. He decided it wasn't the right time for him, that if he ended it now, it would save them both. And she is devastated. I would be too. Afterall, she was ready to go for it, she was ready to try, despite the long distance (this was a bicaostal relationship), despite the difference in life/religous practice. She would try. She liked him, afterall. Why quit?
Well, apparently he thought it would be easier that way. So he did.
The truth is that people survive. We are all survivors. Things falter and we recover. We do. It is only natural. And the only advice to ever give to an ailing friend is that with time it will pass, you will move on and, inevitably, you will be happy. So maybe quitting is not so bad. You all end up ok. Scars and all.
I think about my career quite often. What should I do with it, how can I be more successful, how many road blocks should I overcome to get there? I mean I am pursuing music, there is no delineated path. You just walk it and whatever turn the path decides to make you have to follow it. There are peaks and valleys, successes, failures and the worst- plateaus. I think it is during the plateaus that I wonder, what am I doing here. I am for the most part broke, I am no where that I have not been and I am still standing, but where am I going. All of my other friends experience success, they seem to move ahead in whatever career path they have chosen. What about me?
Should I just quit?
And I think that, I wonder if I should just quit, while I am ahead. I mean it's not as though nothing has ever gone right for me in my career. I have had great experiences with my music. I could leave it here and pursue an entire different happiness. Not sure what it would be, but I am often sure, if I quit it would hurt, but I would end up happy in the end. I mean doesn't everyone find happiness??
But I don't think so. I am not sure that is true in love. And I love music as much as I've loved any man. And believe me, listen to my songs, I have loved. So why would I quit when I was ahead. What happened to 'til death do us part. What happened to feeling love and then committing to that feeling. Working for it.
No one on earth would tell you that love is going to be easy. No one in their right mind would tell you that pursuing something you love, a passion, is going to be easy.
So I don't quit, I keep going. Maybe if people worked for their passion in love and in life there would be less quitting and much more succeeding.
Life is not perfect and moving on is possible. There are situations that are worth getting out of, but there are other situations that are hard, but worth sticking to. I watch my friend in tears and I wish that this man would have tried for something I think was a great thing.
I look at myself in the mirror, voiceless, musicless and I think to myself, why would I give up? Even here, even at my lowest point? Why would I give up now on something I'm in love with? Just because its hard?
I won't. Til death do us part.
xRed Out Loud
Men and women are independent and think they can probably be that way forever, so love happens less frequently. Real love, dependent love. People, I find, quit while they are ahead.
It's hard not to quit. It's hard not to quit anything you do, it's hard not to quit anything you love. If you quit, it won't hurt as much if you fail. And you will never know if you would have failed.
My friend has been seeing a man who she really felt something for. Now this is a friend who does not shy away from serious relationships. She goes for it each time, works at it, analyzes it, give it a good chance. They just seem to fail for one reason or another. Generally she gives up on them, after good thought, she decides it is not for her, one reason or another.
Only this time, the man she was seeing decided to give up on her. He decided it wasn't the right time for him, that if he ended it now, it would save them both. And she is devastated. I would be too. Afterall, she was ready to go for it, she was ready to try, despite the long distance (this was a bicaostal relationship), despite the difference in life/religous practice. She would try. She liked him, afterall. Why quit?
Well, apparently he thought it would be easier that way. So he did.
The truth is that people survive. We are all survivors. Things falter and we recover. We do. It is only natural. And the only advice to ever give to an ailing friend is that with time it will pass, you will move on and, inevitably, you will be happy. So maybe quitting is not so bad. You all end up ok. Scars and all.
I think about my career quite often. What should I do with it, how can I be more successful, how many road blocks should I overcome to get there? I mean I am pursuing music, there is no delineated path. You just walk it and whatever turn the path decides to make you have to follow it. There are peaks and valleys, successes, failures and the worst- plateaus. I think it is during the plateaus that I wonder, what am I doing here. I am for the most part broke, I am no where that I have not been and I am still standing, but where am I going. All of my other friends experience success, they seem to move ahead in whatever career path they have chosen. What about me?
Should I just quit?
And I think that, I wonder if I should just quit, while I am ahead. I mean it's not as though nothing has ever gone right for me in my career. I have had great experiences with my music. I could leave it here and pursue an entire different happiness. Not sure what it would be, but I am often sure, if I quit it would hurt, but I would end up happy in the end. I mean doesn't everyone find happiness??
But I don't think so. I am not sure that is true in love. And I love music as much as I've loved any man. And believe me, listen to my songs, I have loved. So why would I quit when I was ahead. What happened to 'til death do us part. What happened to feeling love and then committing to that feeling. Working for it.
No one on earth would tell you that love is going to be easy. No one in their right mind would tell you that pursuing something you love, a passion, is going to be easy.
So I don't quit, I keep going. Maybe if people worked for their passion in love and in life there would be less quitting and much more succeeding.
Life is not perfect and moving on is possible. There are situations that are worth getting out of, but there are other situations that are hard, but worth sticking to. I watch my friend in tears and I wish that this man would have tried for something I think was a great thing.
I look at myself in the mirror, voiceless, musicless and I think to myself, why would I give up? Even here, even at my lowest point? Why would I give up now on something I'm in love with? Just because its hard?
I won't. Til death do us part.
xRed Out Loud
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Choose Your Words Wisely
Well Everyone, tomorrow is my 7th day of silence and, wahoo, I get to speak. Here's the catch I am alloted about 3-5 minute per hour per day for the next 7 days. I can't decide which will be harder for me. 7 straight days on no talking at all or 7 days where it's just simply a tease to speak. I will have to choose which words are worth saying, which words are not.
I will say that certain people have a knack for choosing their words wisely, and those people probably stay out of loads of trouble, that I find myself getting into on a consistent basis. Trouble for me ranges from being friendly to too many of the wrong people, flirting back with men just to make them feel good, ending up with friends I just did not want in the first place. And then, well, there are my opinions. I have a lot of them and I don't hide them. If I don't like what someone is wearing I'll say it, if I don't like what they say, I will say it. Then of course there is the matter of my loved ones. I am a fighter and I never let things rest unless I feel I have gotten the last word. Basically, what I am trying to say is I am a tough one, I use massive amounts of words and voice to get points across. I am not shy.
So this week, you can imagine, must have been trying. But in fact, I have gotten used to not speaking. I have gotten used to listening and I have gotten used to thinking the things I would say but not saying them. And guess what, I have averted many arguments I otherwise would have had. When you are forced to listen and not speak, you hear what the other person says, you think about, you digest it, because you have to and then you just look back. That is all you have. Your stare. And let me tell you, it gets your point across and hurts the person much less.
For example, in my weak state my mother thought tonight would be a good time to ask me if I'd like to go back to grad school. My mother is constantly supportive of my career goals while trying to divert me as at once, to calm her fears in some way or another. Oh, the Jewish mother. Oh, the mother in general. Normally I'd have yelled, screamed, said horrible things. But all I could do was roll my eyes, look at her and pitifully mouth, "you are going to do this right now?" My dad said, "well, we worry about you." And again, all I had were my eyes and a little chin jut. And miraculously, the conversation ended. No words on my part, no nothing. It ended, I got their point, they got mine. And no one cried! It was brilliant. Actually it was miraculous, really.
Then, the downside, I am limited to IM, e mail, text and a notepad. Today, my friend was dumped by her boyfriend. Dumped, my best friend. For the first time in her life. And I could not even call her. I had to pacify her through g chat. I feel incapacitated and I feel I am a bad friend.
And here is the worst! Or maybe it is for the best. Tomorrow I am meeting Dean's mother for the first time. She is here from England and I will not be able to say more then "hello, how are you?" How about that for dilemma?
I guess there are perks and downsides. Life in general, right?
Tomorrow I get words back. But not all of them. So I will have to choose now. I can't fall back on my inability to speak, but I can't go all out screaming and yelling all the time. I will have to think before speaking, decide when its worth it and when it's not, and make sure I get my points across, succinctly.
I will have to choose my words wisely...which will be much more of a challenge then choosing none at all.
xRedoutloud
I will say that certain people have a knack for choosing their words wisely, and those people probably stay out of loads of trouble, that I find myself getting into on a consistent basis. Trouble for me ranges from being friendly to too many of the wrong people, flirting back with men just to make them feel good, ending up with friends I just did not want in the first place. And then, well, there are my opinions. I have a lot of them and I don't hide them. If I don't like what someone is wearing I'll say it, if I don't like what they say, I will say it. Then of course there is the matter of my loved ones. I am a fighter and I never let things rest unless I feel I have gotten the last word. Basically, what I am trying to say is I am a tough one, I use massive amounts of words and voice to get points across. I am not shy.
So this week, you can imagine, must have been trying. But in fact, I have gotten used to not speaking. I have gotten used to listening and I have gotten used to thinking the things I would say but not saying them. And guess what, I have averted many arguments I otherwise would have had. When you are forced to listen and not speak, you hear what the other person says, you think about, you digest it, because you have to and then you just look back. That is all you have. Your stare. And let me tell you, it gets your point across and hurts the person much less.
For example, in my weak state my mother thought tonight would be a good time to ask me if I'd like to go back to grad school. My mother is constantly supportive of my career goals while trying to divert me as at once, to calm her fears in some way or another. Oh, the Jewish mother. Oh, the mother in general. Normally I'd have yelled, screamed, said horrible things. But all I could do was roll my eyes, look at her and pitifully mouth, "you are going to do this right now?" My dad said, "well, we worry about you." And again, all I had were my eyes and a little chin jut. And miraculously, the conversation ended. No words on my part, no nothing. It ended, I got their point, they got mine. And no one cried! It was brilliant. Actually it was miraculous, really.
Then, the downside, I am limited to IM, e mail, text and a notepad. Today, my friend was dumped by her boyfriend. Dumped, my best friend. For the first time in her life. And I could not even call her. I had to pacify her through g chat. I feel incapacitated and I feel I am a bad friend.
And here is the worst! Or maybe it is for the best. Tomorrow I am meeting Dean's mother for the first time. She is here from England and I will not be able to say more then "hello, how are you?" How about that for dilemma?
I guess there are perks and downsides. Life in general, right?
Tomorrow I get words back. But not all of them. So I will have to choose now. I can't fall back on my inability to speak, but I can't go all out screaming and yelling all the time. I will have to think before speaking, decide when its worth it and when it's not, and make sure I get my points across, succinctly.
I will have to choose my words wisely...which will be much more of a challenge then choosing none at all.
xRedoutloud
A Letter from a fan
A letter I wrote to one of my favorite bloggers, or rather newletter writers- Bob Lefsetz. He gets it. So well, that I felt the need to respond this time! I guess with time on your hands there are no bounds ;) You can read his blog at www.lefsetz.com
Read below;
Dear Bob,
I am an avid reader of your blog and I wanted to let you know that this week it has come in handy in a most particular way. You see, I am an artist, a singer, a songwriter and I believe in music as you believe in music. From artists mouths to the listening ear. That is the heart of music and that is why music persists. Though I am at the crux of the age of the MTV generation, I too am made to feel sick and disappointed by the ongoing reality TV shows, the utterly horrible game shows and the unfortunate lack of, well MUSIC, that this supposed Music Television station claims to offer.
This week I have spent 6 days in silence. About 3 months ago I found out that I had a cyst on my most precious bodily organ. My Vocal Cord. 6 days ago I had it removed and over the next 2 months I will undergo therapy to not only get my singing voice back, but also to get my speaking voice back. I am not a quiet person, I don't listen well and I talk a lot! So this challenge has been a great one for me. But I did something, well two things (along with catching up on your blog), I had never done before. 1)I kept a diary of my experience, which means I slowed down long enough to do so and 2)I listened to music.
You see it's funny, as an artist you spend your days making music, writing, playing, practicing, honing your craft. I, in particular, love to work, play and write with other artists. It's a passion of mine to create original words, melodies and to share it, with whomever will listen. But I find over time that as my own music becomes my focus I stop listening to music. Ironic, I guess. You would think an artist, musician, would constantly be in touch with the artists and albums that have influenced them. But as hours during the day tend to get shorter and shorter I make less and less time to listen. Song by song, note by note.
This last e mail of yours, regarding Little Big Town, a band I also love, made me think about that. And in my silence I yearned for music, not just to sing it, but to listen to it. So I took out old cd's and I listened to them from start to finish. And I guess it does not really matter which ones, but it matters that I did it. I took the journey again with different artists that have spoken to me in different ways from Levon and the Band to, well, old Ella F.
And it brought back music to me. It was great. If the phone rang, I could not answer it, if someone spoke to me I could not speak back. But I could listen....
Thanks for keeping it real, for loving music for the right reasons. Hopefully people will catch on to you as I have.
Have a good one.
Deena
http://redoutloud.blogspot.com/
www.myspace.com/deenagoodman
- Show quoted text -
Read below;
Dear Bob,
I am an avid reader of your blog and I wanted to let you know that this week it has come in handy in a most particular way. You see, I am an artist, a singer, a songwriter and I believe in music as you believe in music. From artists mouths to the listening ear. That is the heart of music and that is why music persists. Though I am at the crux of the age of the MTV generation, I too am made to feel sick and disappointed by the ongoing reality TV shows, the utterly horrible game shows and the unfortunate lack of, well MUSIC, that this supposed Music Television station claims to offer.
This week I have spent 6 days in silence. About 3 months ago I found out that I had a cyst on my most precious bodily organ. My Vocal Cord. 6 days ago I had it removed and over the next 2 months I will undergo therapy to not only get my singing voice back, but also to get my speaking voice back. I am not a quiet person, I don't listen well and I talk a lot! So this challenge has been a great one for me. But I did something, well two things (along with catching up on your blog), I had never done before. 1)I kept a diary of my experience, which means I slowed down long enough to do so and 2)I listened to music.
You see it's funny, as an artist you spend your days making music, writing, playing, practicing, honing your craft. I, in particular, love to work, play and write with other artists. It's a passion of mine to create original words, melodies and to share it, with whomever will listen. But I find over time that as my own music becomes my focus I stop listening to music. Ironic, I guess. You would think an artist, musician, would constantly be in touch with the artists and albums that have influenced them. But as hours during the day tend to get shorter and shorter I make less and less time to listen. Song by song, note by note.
This last e mail of yours, regarding Little Big Town, a band I also love, made me think about that. And in my silence I yearned for music, not just to sing it, but to listen to it. So I took out old cd's and I listened to them from start to finish. And I guess it does not really matter which ones, but it matters that I did it. I took the journey again with different artists that have spoken to me in different ways from Levon and the Band to, well, old Ella F.
And it brought back music to me. It was great. If the phone rang, I could not answer it, if someone spoke to me I could not speak back. But I could listen....
Thanks for keeping it real, for loving music for the right reasons. Hopefully people will catch on to you as I have.
Have a good one.
Deena
http://redoutloud.blogspot.com/
www.myspace.com/deenagoodman
- Show quoted text -
CARNEGIE HALL
I Just rubbed my eyes full of mascara, that is how tired I am, but I must at least begin this entry!
I sang at Carnegie Hall. I mentioned, at least twice, that this day was coming, but I never told you about it! I never told you about the day of, the day of rehearsals the afternoon before, the artists, the glory, the excitement. EVERYTHING!
How many times do you get to say this and mean it? IT WAS FABULOUS!!!!! No better word! Roger Mcguinn, Phoebe Snow, Shawn Colvin, Ryan Shaw! They loved us and we loved them. All was right in the world! To not only share the stage with Fools For April but also with these true artists was just about the only way I could have seen myself spending my last moments singing.
On stage and bloody Carny Hall (as Dean refers to it in English accent).
There's more, more, more! But to sleep I must. I believe that sleep is a large part of healing and I only have 2 more days to heal....so...
Goodnight!
x Red Out Loud
I sang at Carnegie Hall. I mentioned, at least twice, that this day was coming, but I never told you about it! I never told you about the day of, the day of rehearsals the afternoon before, the artists, the glory, the excitement. EVERYTHING!
How many times do you get to say this and mean it? IT WAS FABULOUS!!!!! No better word! Roger Mcguinn, Phoebe Snow, Shawn Colvin, Ryan Shaw! They loved us and we loved them. All was right in the world! To not only share the stage with Fools For April but also with these true artists was just about the only way I could have seen myself spending my last moments singing.
On stage and bloody Carny Hall (as Dean refers to it in English accent).
There's more, more, more! But to sleep I must. I believe that sleep is a large part of healing and I only have 2 more days to heal....so...
Goodnight!
x Red Out Loud
Sounds of Silence
10 sounds to make without your voice:
1)clicking heels
2)stomping feet
3)deep breaths
4)open/close of the refrigerator door
5)pouring water
6)heart beat (not in a silly way, but for real- listen- it speaks your moods when your words can't)!
7)grinding teeth
8)sniffing nose
9)typing keyboard (there are happy, sad, angry, bored typing rhythms)
10)clapping hands
All of these sounds work to communicate, not deeply, but at least to communicate, get attention, get a message across. Anything! Try it! I dare you all to try a fast of words, even for a day. These 10 sounds will mean much more to you then they ever have before!
1)clicking heels
2)stomping feet
3)deep breaths
4)open/close of the refrigerator door
5)pouring water
6)heart beat (not in a silly way, but for real- listen- it speaks your moods when your words can't)!
7)grinding teeth
8)sniffing nose
9)typing keyboard (there are happy, sad, angry, bored typing rhythms)
10)clapping hands
All of these sounds work to communicate, not deeply, but at least to communicate, get attention, get a message across. Anything! Try it! I dare you all to try a fast of words, even for a day. These 10 sounds will mean much more to you then they ever have before!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Day 5
So here I am day 5, episode 32 of Weeds, Nancy is embezzling money from a fake city to buy and sell weed to take care of her kids and Celia has to take care of her abhorred injured ex husband. No one gets a break in the this show, in most shows I find that no one really ever catches a break, how could they? If people caught a break, there would be no show.....
I suppose like life, if I caught a break, my life would be smooth sailing but it would probably be boring. So here I am in my millionth dilemma, not a break in site...and I can't even talk about it! Now don't read this entry as bitter, I am not bitter, I appreciate the challenges I face. The big ones like: lose a lover, learn about yourself. Lose an audition, there is something better around the corner. Watch others succeed around you, don't be jealous, just work harder. Love and success are hard to come by, so there are bound to be bumps in the road. You learn. You work. You progress. That is great. All good and well.
I never thought one of my dilemmas would include losing what came easiest to me, my voice, probably the most instinctual move your body can make. Speak, answer when spoken to, respond, emote and for me and other lucky people, sing. It's one of those many, well, bodily functions, that most people take for granted. You do bad things to it, you do good things to it, you pay no attention to it at all, but still you assume it will be there regardless.
And that is how I treated my voice. I never ignored it. I loved it. But I would not say I treated it as my most prized possession, per se. I mean I can't count the drunken smoke filled nights I spent trudging all over my poor cords, mostly after I found out about my first injury. But it was all in the name of fun, right? And before my injury, I can't tell you how many times I sang my ass off, for so long, that the redness in my cords seeped through to the skin on my neck. But it was all for the love of the craft. Right? If I hit that high note 67 times instead of 65 I felt myself a winner! Glorious feeling to sing, to let out notes that when translated into emotion released the deepest parts of my worried soul. And even in the depths of that very soul I never thought I would ruin this part of myself, maybe for good even.
And I was not naive, I'd seen friends go through it. It is not that unusual that singers experience vocal problems, that singers undergo therapy or other types of treatment to fix an injured instrument. But I was just never going to be one of those people. It's funny as I write this I realize I must sound like one of those ads for protected sex, or something, where you see a young pregnant teenager explaining that she'd never thought it would be her, or some poor young man explaining he never thought he's be the one to end up with Herpes, or, worse, HIV.
Ok- so my bump in the road, not THAT big. But in a way, I relate to those folks. I never thought it would be me. And if you ask anyone else, they'd agree. Deena Goodman, lose her voice? Deena Goodman make it through 7 days (I realize I am only on day 5, but I intend to make it through) without voice use at all??
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am here to say, it can happen to you, it can happen to anyone, and it happened to me.
This would sound cliche if it was not a reality, but it is. I am sitting here in Day 5 with my computer on my lap itching to just HUMMM a note but not being able to and being forced to in turn wonder if I ever will be able to. I have not heard my voice for 6 days, minus a slip up. I won't lie. As you know I accidentally spoke one word being woken up from a nap, but still. It was not loud enough, or long enough to hear. And all can think about is how do I sound, how will I sound, how hard will it be to speak again, how different will my voice sound and will I be able to sing?
Will I be able to sing? Will I be able to sing?
A question I never thought I would ask out loud. A road block I never thought I'd face. A break I never thought I'd hope for.
x Red Out Loud
I suppose like life, if I caught a break, my life would be smooth sailing but it would probably be boring. So here I am in my millionth dilemma, not a break in site...and I can't even talk about it! Now don't read this entry as bitter, I am not bitter, I appreciate the challenges I face. The big ones like: lose a lover, learn about yourself. Lose an audition, there is something better around the corner. Watch others succeed around you, don't be jealous, just work harder. Love and success are hard to come by, so there are bound to be bumps in the road. You learn. You work. You progress. That is great. All good and well.
I never thought one of my dilemmas would include losing what came easiest to me, my voice, probably the most instinctual move your body can make. Speak, answer when spoken to, respond, emote and for me and other lucky people, sing. It's one of those many, well, bodily functions, that most people take for granted. You do bad things to it, you do good things to it, you pay no attention to it at all, but still you assume it will be there regardless.
And that is how I treated my voice. I never ignored it. I loved it. But I would not say I treated it as my most prized possession, per se. I mean I can't count the drunken smoke filled nights I spent trudging all over my poor cords, mostly after I found out about my first injury. But it was all in the name of fun, right? And before my injury, I can't tell you how many times I sang my ass off, for so long, that the redness in my cords seeped through to the skin on my neck. But it was all for the love of the craft. Right? If I hit that high note 67 times instead of 65 I felt myself a winner! Glorious feeling to sing, to let out notes that when translated into emotion released the deepest parts of my worried soul. And even in the depths of that very soul I never thought I would ruin this part of myself, maybe for good even.
And I was not naive, I'd seen friends go through it. It is not that unusual that singers experience vocal problems, that singers undergo therapy or other types of treatment to fix an injured instrument. But I was just never going to be one of those people. It's funny as I write this I realize I must sound like one of those ads for protected sex, or something, where you see a young pregnant teenager explaining that she'd never thought it would be her, or some poor young man explaining he never thought he's be the one to end up with Herpes, or, worse, HIV.
Ok- so my bump in the road, not THAT big. But in a way, I relate to those folks. I never thought it would be me. And if you ask anyone else, they'd agree. Deena Goodman, lose her voice? Deena Goodman make it through 7 days (I realize I am only on day 5, but I intend to make it through) without voice use at all??
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am here to say, it can happen to you, it can happen to anyone, and it happened to me.
This would sound cliche if it was not a reality, but it is. I am sitting here in Day 5 with my computer on my lap itching to just HUMMM a note but not being able to and being forced to in turn wonder if I ever will be able to. I have not heard my voice for 6 days, minus a slip up. I won't lie. As you know I accidentally spoke one word being woken up from a nap, but still. It was not loud enough, or long enough to hear. And all can think about is how do I sound, how will I sound, how hard will it be to speak again, how different will my voice sound and will I be able to sing?
Will I be able to sing? Will I be able to sing?
A question I never thought I would ask out loud. A road block I never thought I'd face. A break I never thought I'd hope for.
x Red Out Loud
Monday, October 15, 2007
In SIlence and In Health
Right now I am about 3 and a half days into silence and if you think that means that my last 84 hours were relaxing, drama free, sex and the city marathons...you would be wrong. Oh no, in fact I have barely made it through a movie. There have been loving visitors, guest attended meals, dvr catch up and of course, no weekend goes by without a fight or two with my boyfriend. One might think that in silence who could fight, one might think that who would consider challenging a poor voiceless soul. Well let me tell you.... Dean has decided ever since I told him not to keep anything bottled up that he should always be forthright about how he feels, no matter the situation, even if that means telling me any and every time he deems my behavior abhorrent, or horrible, as he likes to call it.
Thanks Dean! Thank you for deeming my reaction to being woken up by my father and thereby saying one word out loud, one MORE word then my weeks word allotment, as horrible. You are probably right- letting something so small like speaking with a cut up vocal cord bother me is so, well, wrong! Being stressed out while not being able to express myself in any way- that must be wrong too.
What do you think this is, some sort of a vacation?
It's not.
It's an odd thing how lovers deal with each other in times of need. The people that are supposed to be the most understanding, the most comforting, more comforting then even a mothers touch, are most often the most unable to help. This could be because they are uncomfortable watching someone they love feel hurt or incapacitated or because the injured loved one does not want to to let their said lover make them feel any better.
It's hard for two people to let themselves be there for each other. Vulnerability, we are told and have been told for ages, is the hardest state to allow oneself to be in. So I am not writing today to put down Dean, he is wonderful to me, but for some reason in my vulnerability as patient and his vulnerability as caretaker we have been, well, HORRIBLE to each other.
Strangely though in the absence of my regular ability to communicate we have had to resort to typing, e mailing which means, wait for it....thinking before speaking! And oddly this has been effective, more honest and more hurtful in turn, but at least efficient and hopefully effective. We heard each other, in the silence, actually heard what the other was saying. I'm uncomfortable being out of commission, he is uncomfortable watching me in pain, he has trouble with needy, so do I. And we pissed each other off, in silence. And we made up in silence.
I don't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that even in silence my boyfriend and I fight. If I should feel badly that I have trouble relying on someone I love or that he might have trouble being there for someone that he loves back.
Or maybe this is not a sign at all, maybe its another small argument between people who really just want to be close to each other, in silence and in health.
x
red out loud
Thanks Dean! Thank you for deeming my reaction to being woken up by my father and thereby saying one word out loud, one MORE word then my weeks word allotment, as horrible. You are probably right- letting something so small like speaking with a cut up vocal cord bother me is so, well, wrong! Being stressed out while not being able to express myself in any way- that must be wrong too.
What do you think this is, some sort of a vacation?
It's not.
It's an odd thing how lovers deal with each other in times of need. The people that are supposed to be the most understanding, the most comforting, more comforting then even a mothers touch, are most often the most unable to help. This could be because they are uncomfortable watching someone they love feel hurt or incapacitated or because the injured loved one does not want to to let their said lover make them feel any better.
It's hard for two people to let themselves be there for each other. Vulnerability, we are told and have been told for ages, is the hardest state to allow oneself to be in. So I am not writing today to put down Dean, he is wonderful to me, but for some reason in my vulnerability as patient and his vulnerability as caretaker we have been, well, HORRIBLE to each other.
Strangely though in the absence of my regular ability to communicate we have had to resort to typing, e mailing which means, wait for it....thinking before speaking! And oddly this has been effective, more honest and more hurtful in turn, but at least efficient and hopefully effective. We heard each other, in the silence, actually heard what the other was saying. I'm uncomfortable being out of commission, he is uncomfortable watching me in pain, he has trouble with needy, so do I. And we pissed each other off, in silence. And we made up in silence.
I don't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that even in silence my boyfriend and I fight. If I should feel badly that I have trouble relying on someone I love or that he might have trouble being there for someone that he loves back.
Or maybe this is not a sign at all, maybe its another small argument between people who really just want to be close to each other, in silence and in health.
x
red out loud
Friday, October 12, 2007
Silence Becomes Me
Forecast for surgery, weather wise, was sunny. And though it was not sunny at all when I began my trip to the hospital this morning, it was certainly sunny when I left and for fear of cheesy metaphors it was sunny for me inside and out. Strangely I was relieved, happy and sort of interested in my new found silence.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
7 Day Forecast!
I can not imagine what the days ahead of me will hold. I keep looking in any direction to gain some sort of hint or sign, but nothing. The only sense of what the future will hold for me is in the forecast, at least I know if the sun will shine or rain will pour. In a way it gives me some confidence. At least I know those days will actually come and go with some semblence of weather conditions!
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Saturday, October 6, 2007
5:58 AM
It is 5:58 am. I am awake by accident. It is now officially 6 and a half days until the doctor scratches up my vocal cords. that makes it 6 and a half days until I enter a 7 day silence. Which at first sounded like a funny joke to me, I mean what better a punishment for years of big mouthing it then to have to shut up for 7 days, but I must say I am really nervous about it. Not because it won't be fun, not because I will be lonely and not because I won't be able to communicate, but literally because I am afraid I won't be able to do it. I am sort of scared that I will actually just forget to keep quiet, that I will unravel, give up, or worse speak in my sleep. My speech pathologist told me I can not make a sound, not even cough, not laugh, not nothing.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
SILENCE
Days after my last entry I write with good and bad news. Lots of it.
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
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