I've been writing

Really, I have. I’ve written quite a bit over these past two weeks, though none of it’s appeared here. I finished several essays about my impressions of Boston, and the latest challenges and opportunities that have come my way. I wrote a beautiful eulogy for the unexpected death of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, the woman who was not only my favorite singer but my role model, whose voice I hear when I envision the sound I am striving for. I wrote a charming parody of the sort of poetic free verse one finds in 17th century French secular cantatas. I wrote character studies – for the first time I’ve had ideas for characters! – and sketched outlines for soul-searing stories that lay bear the human condition.

It’s a pity that these texts have only appeared on the interior of my eyelids, and never on paper. Working as much as I do now – and not enough on music projects, unfortunately – I find plenty of fodder for inspiration, but less time and energy to write it down. My non-dayjob hours have to be devoted to an evening practice, and whatever I can do to work on the pile of repertoire I wish to learn this summer. Time to develop myself as a writer – and singer – will have to be found some other season, maybe next year.

Yet, being busy also keeps my mind energized, and has somehow given me the drive to have ideas for new things to write about and music to pursue. If I was back on my care-free part-time schedule, I might clock more hours in the library, but I would also find more ways to fritter away time, and new things to frustrate me. Leisure and contentment does not usually yield great art: when Brahms was pining away for Clara Schumann he wrote his masterpieces, when he was happy he wrote plonk, like the Hungarian dances.

It takes discipline to create a beautiful voice – written or sung. I would never characterize myself as a disciplined person. As a child I would be more likely to curl up with a book and then stare into space, rather than immerse myself in the story. I don’t have the ambition of some of my peers, never being able to tolerate long hours in the office or ruthless behavior with colleagues. This summer is a test of my dreams: can I make some progress on them while making some money?

I’m in the office right now, and should logoff to face my Monday morning and the (not altogether uninteresting work) at hand. My music sits in my apartment, damp with humidity. My voice sits silently in my throat, as if it didn’t exist at all. Those characters I dreamt up go about their days as usual, occasionally blinking at me with expectation.

Here's an idea for a new character: a relatively young women with some talent and drive, who quits bellyaching about not being able to do the things she wants to and actually knuckles down and gets the work done.