Epistolary Notation and Pretentious Titles.

It has been so long since I've written a letter. It always surprised me, the honesty that would come of writing letters, not caring if it was received well or with distaste, because at least it was true. And I decided to tell the truth. So why not try:

World of Crows and the Ice Lakes of Washington,

I like it up here. The land is loud, as Babs once said. But I don't really feel the impact of the magic of this place until I leave the city on the ferry. Surrounded by this dark blue country, the sky grows dark green at night and the trees serrated black. Plus, I like boats. Plus, being on the ferry means being on the way to Shaun, which as far as I can see is the source of all this. Not the world, just my favorite parts.

Illusive items: neck hang and chest voice. Neck hang, while considerably painful, seems much easier to learn. It tears the skin off your neck but besides getting used to that, all you have to do is hold still a certain way. 1+1=neck hang. Chest voice is getting your vocal chords to thicken. WTF mate? My head voice is more fun than ever, perhaps because I can actually do it. I don't even know the recipe for chest voice, except that Kaycee (my friend and director of the Angels) is an awesome teacher and very patient with my rancid, frustrated mood swings.

The sun has been setting this whole hour long ferry ride. The sky is still green. I'm in love. And now I'm off to demonstrate that. Thank you for seagulls and electricity.

I Heart Sam Cooke

Late night with Seattle circus family, debuting the first public showing of the Flint brother's film Catching Dreams, under a sky of net and the cavernous dark apex of the vaulted roof. Starry, starry world. Illusive neck hang. New act for the Pink Door. That is all.

Story of a Month

I will take a hint from my fire-and-ice Northern friend Lucien and attempt the barest bones of recitals:

Moisture Festival. John selling wine on the hill. Abby and vocal fold videos. The cavity of air intake. Training oversplits. Training hangs. Teaching conditioning to 1-2 students at a time. Learning to sing. Angels (the show) dot com. A lot of Angels. Discovering the stars in my throat. Letting that keep me from smoking. Shaun coming home. Shaun coming home. Seeing Babs at work. Holding a grudge against the time difference that inhibits my overdue phone calls. David choosing a fine fate. The earth coughing up spring. Luke and pasta and earthy red beauty.
Shaun being home. The sating of the void. The draping curve of new muscle. The safety of it.
Forgetting how to write. Forgetting a lot. Making life out of nothing. Refusal and demanding. Knowing.

Now that that is there, I can update in peace.