Wednesday, March 28, 2012

on the leap revisited

So about those leaps.  They're scary.  And they feel huge.  Even when they're not.  Even when they are just small things to the rest of the world, if it's your leap, it feels monstrous.  I took one.  And I didn't land so softly.  But it wasn't a disaster.  No broken bones, but maybe a little bruised?

I auditioned for a band.  The next day they called me back for a followup.  There were two of those follow-ups over two weeks, each time just one on one with the guitarist.  Then there was the final followup with the full band.  And then a few days of silence.  Afterward, a tentative acceptance email.  "We like you, we like your voice, but... "  It was decided we'd give it a shot.  A probationary measure so no one would be investing too much in the other.  That probation ends today.

The thing is, I'm not a blues singer.  I love the blues, at 12 I even named my hamster Albert in honor of Albert King who died on the day I got him.  But I'm not a blues singer.  I like melodies, I miss singing them.  I'm not tough enough, gritty enough for these.  Maybe I should have taken up a whiskey and cigarette habit because my years of choir-trained vibrato give me away every time.  So earlier this week, when I could tell the band wasn't as happy as they should be about how things were progressing, when I could tell I wasn't as happy as I should be about being a part of it, I wrote and said that I thought they should find another singer.  Even though I know there's really no such thing as a mutual breakup, I think we came close this week.  I wasn't happy.  They weren't happy.  Let's end this now before we stop liking each other.

I'm proud though.  I tried.  I leapt.  I didn't land as softly as I would have liked, but I landed.  And now I know I can do this.  Just not in the way they wanted.  But now I know I can do it on my own.  In the way I want.  Not a bad ending for a first time leap.

Monday, March 26, 2012

on some maybe's

Last night I found myself on the Department of Defense's website.  An unlikely place for me to be, but I was there with Mike as we looked into teaching positions overseas.  Maybe just for a year or two.  Maybe just for a break.  A chance at a teaching job for Mike since there are none to be had here.  Someplace new, different, away from all the things that keep us at a stand still here.  And it was a good daydream, a good talk.  We imagined a baby there.  A new language.  A community abroad.  I said out loud my fears of being away from my family, don't I need them so much?  But then there is skype, and email, and visits, and how many times do we really see everyone in one year anyway.

It's just a daydream for now, made a little more real by the application submission and the country check list:  Ireland, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Belgium, Germany, Iceland, Netherlands, check.  It's just a daydream, but last night our words felt a little more real.  About what we want our life to look like, to feel like, if we really want what we thought we wanted.  The house with the yard in the nice neighborhood with good schools and a place to swim so our kids could grow up knowing the water.  Yes, the water part is always important on my list.  But the checks have changed, maybe it's just a family somewhere we feel at home, doing jobs that make us feel good, and just like that the suburban cul-de-sac that had occupied my vision of the future turned into a thousand what could be's and maybe's instead.

from here

Monday, March 12, 2012

on the highline

Spring arrived a few weeks early (of course, now that I've said that, we should expect a blizzard in April) and so last week I made my way over to the Highline before work to celebrate it:

Friday, March 2, 2012

on Our Town and Mary Ann

Emily's lines at the end of Our Town, when she says goodbye to clocks ticking and new ironed dresses and sleeping and waking up.  When she asks if human beings ever realize life, every every minute and the stage manager tells her no, saints and poets, maybe, they do some.  That.  That is my favorite.

And then this:  Justin and Mary's recent post about Mary Ann.  The words and the video below feel like Emily's lines in action.  Do human beings ever realize life, every every minute?  Saints and poets and Mary Ann.  They do some.