(no subject)

[wispfox]

I post too much today. And yesterday. Hell, I just post too much. But. My brain won't let me be useful if I don't.

Last night, I remembered.

When I was much younger, I used to sing, constantly. I don't know if there were words or not, because the words never mattered. Only the song did. It got my emotions out better than words ever could. I never did this when anyone else was around, and usually when I was outdoors. I remember singing for the creek in my backyard, because it was singing. And I thought it wanted me to sing with it. I know I sang with trees, too...

I think there were words, then, because I don't think I had yet accepted that it was ok to sing without them. I still thought that vocal music without words wasn't... as good. Or something. But I don't think the words ever mattered.

I could never remember the tune. I have no idea if anyone else might like it, since I never did it with others around.

But, last night, for the first time in probably 15 years or more, I sang. No words, because words distracted me. No other music than my voice. I just... sang. I sorta wish I'd recorded it. But only sorta - it doesn't feel... like something that should be trapped, or that can be repeated the same way every time. It feels fluid. Changing.

I mean, I've sung with no words before, fairly recently. But not without any other music; not for a very long time. And even the lack of words singing was always very quiet - I don't think anyone else could hear it.

It felt... right. Vuluerable. Scary. But very, very right. I don't know when, or if, I'll be ok with letting other people hear me. This feels like it comes from deeper inside me than any other method I have of expressing myself. But. I have it back. When I'm alone, I have it back.

I'm not sure what triggered it; possibly a combination of the character I played this weekend, and the book I'm currently reading. Something did.

I have my music back. I didn't even know it was missing...

Comments

[ladytabitha.livejournal.com]

By whose definition of "too much"?

[wispfox.livejournal.com]

Mine! Whose else's matters? :)

[ladytabitha.livejournal.com]

But if your brain defines "enough" as "when I'm done needing to verbalise things, dammit all to hell!", then how're you defining it?

[wispfox.livejournal.com]

I was defining it based on 'am I spending too much time posting to LJ, considering that I'm at work?'

[epi-lj.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth Fraser, 99% of whose singing is in a wordless "language" of her own construction, said that she took that form because she felt the need to sing, to get the things inside her out, but she never felt comfortable with baring her soul to strangers, and she was too afraid and vulnerable to try to use words.

[moosemonster.livejournal.com]

I post too much today. And yesterday. Hell, I just post too much. But. My brain won't let me be useful if I don't.

I like the connection you made here where your brain won't let you be useful if you don't post. It's like a bunch of creative/reflective thinking gets repressed by doing so much technical work all the time, that it needs to just flood out every now and then.

[wispfox.livejournal.com]

It's like a bunch of creative/reflective thinking gets repressed by doing so much technical work all the time, that it needs to just flood out every now and then.

Quite. I notice it very strongly when I've not done anything creative in too long...

But this may be more about the fact that I've had stuff to process on, and it's sneaking out of my head whether I want it to or not. My brain is like that!

[starphire.livejournal.com]

You had a creek in your backyard too?
I'm thinking about putting some kind of flowing-water thing in the backyard at Moosecasa. Yeah, it'd be kind of fake, but it'd be something.

[wispfox.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it'd be kind of fake, but it'd be something.

Yeah... but part of my fascination with the creek I grew up with was the things living _in_ it... minnows, brook trout, crawfish... *shrug*

[starphire.livejournal.com]

Usually we only saw fish during migration periods. Fingerlings heading out to sea, the occasional adult steelhead struggling upstream when the water was low. When the fingerlings came, we'd feed them cracker crumbs & sometimes they'd hang around for a few days before moving on. We could distinguish the repeat customers from the newbies by their reaction to our approaching shadows.
I also left a piece of raw meat in the water once, and it attracted a bunch of Planaria - that was a delightful surprise. They're such goofy-looking inverts.(and there really ought to be a cross-eyed emoticon for situations like this)