Singing From The Heart
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This extremely vivid, pre-lucid dream I had on 02-07-2008 is one of my greatest treasures. I am utterly incapable of properly describing the experience in words, but rereading the record brings back memories and revives the event in my imagination. If my writing is any good, you may at least get a glimpse, like viewing a travel photo - of course it's no adequate substitution for having been there. |
»I am a woman* dressed in a silken, blue ball gown, standing on a wooden stage, behind me a huge curtain of dark color falling into pleats on the floor. I am performing some kind of operetta, an orchestral piece of european style that I do not know. Nevertheless I sing, complying with the harmonies that carry the music, singing and listening at the same time. The lyrics are also unknown to me, therefore I sing very vaguely and protractedly carry the notes, inventing words ad libitum. Unusually I am singing through a microphone.
A mixed audience sits in the auditorium on portable chairs. They too are festively dressed. Some of them I know, they are friends. So while I am singing, my voice develops. It is beautiful, rounded, voluminous, marvellously clear and technically perfectly skilled. Yet I use it as if I had just discovered it and am hardly able to control that fine instrument I possess. The audience does not care about that, they applaud in the midst of the movement. The more affection I receive from the audience, the more confidently I use my voice and the better the result becomes. A synergetic effect between my singing and the audience takes place.
At the right side of my field of vision a small bird unfolds on the stage, flies aloft and disappears behind the curtain. An exalted feeling of fragile beauty, of warm evening sun and the fragrance of a flower garden unfurls around me. After observing the bird's flight with mild surprise and interest, I launch a strinking and deep note that I let pass into a sweet falsetto that tilts at the end releasing a wave of emotion whose intimacy embarrassingly touches me.
Then I awake gasping for breath in the darkness, this time without fear.«
* I am actually male.
A mixed audience sits in the auditorium on portable chairs. They too are festively dressed. Some of them I know, they are friends. So while I am singing, my voice develops. It is beautiful, rounded, voluminous, marvellously clear and technically perfectly skilled. Yet I use it as if I had just discovered it and am hardly able to control that fine instrument I possess. The audience does not care about that, they applaud in the midst of the movement. The more affection I receive from the audience, the more confidently I use my voice and the better the result becomes. A synergetic effect between my singing and the audience takes place.
At the right side of my field of vision a small bird unfolds on the stage, flies aloft and disappears behind the curtain. An exalted feeling of fragile beauty, of warm evening sun and the fragrance of a flower garden unfurls around me. After observing the bird's flight with mild surprise and interest, I launch a strinking and deep note that I let pass into a sweet falsetto that tilts at the end releasing a wave of emotion whose intimacy embarrassingly touches me.
Then I awake gasping for breath in the darkness, this time without fear.«
* I am actually male.
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