pass the salt. . .

Food for thought:

Imagine you are a snail. One day you decide to leave your shell. It's cold and you feel naked. Then, just as you really get going, it starts to rain. Salt.

ouch

This is how I'm feeling right now, in relation to singing. I am learning to be vulnerable. Learning to crack open my chest and have everyone see my heart beating. And I'm learning to like it.

Right now, it still feels like salt, stinging. Eventually, it will just feel like cold raindrops. Then, it will feel warm, and the rain will still hit me, but will steam off. No more pain.

This is what it's like to be a performer. (A good one, anyways). Someone who has put their experiences into an aria, a song, and is opening up themselves for everyone to see.
The audience just sees the raw, open character, and is moved. The performer learns to access these emotions/places in their real lives, and uses them on stage. It just takes a little while to get used to doing--to realize that you are not 'reliving' your life, just using those experiences. But at the very beginning of this process, it still feels 'real'. So, that's where I am.

It's funny, too, how life and art imitate each other and bleed into each other. I've been noticing, when I'm feeling vulnerable or really open just in conversation with friends, I find myself curled up tight, wanting to be in my shell. Example: talking to Raina on Monday night, I was sitting at my desk, legs and arms crossed, hunched over, curled in a ball. Talking to Raina, one of my closest friends. I'm becoming aware of myself, I guess, in a different way. It's exciting, scary, and leaves me feeling a little giddy at times.

But it's all good.

So if you see me, and I'm just acting a little different than normal, just know that I've been feeling the salt grains, but that I'm okay. :)