Pulling the Voice Box out of Storage

I used to sing.  I was never the best vocal talent, but I could carry a tune – in some ways it was what I was supposed to do, so I did.  Mostly I loved it. I sang in more church musicals than I can remember, often with a leading role.  I sang in church every week – I treasured the parts of the service where the congregation sang from the hymnal.  I would try my best and sing my heart out.  It was for God, yes, but it was also for me.

Around the age of 10 or 11, I was involved in a large boys’ choir project with the Wichita Symphony Orchestra – a special anniversary performance of some exceptional piece of music I no longer remember.  It was a very big deal for the Symphony and for all involved, and I remember we sang beautifully in German and Latin under the direction of a petite taskmaster.  I might dig up more information on that performance for a later post; I would like to remember more.

In my young adult crazy years, I also sang Karaoke.  The less said about that the better.

For whatever reasons, singing doesn’t bring me joy like it used to.  It has been many years since I’ve done any singing at all.  “Happy Birthday to You” and the occasional “sing a line or a bit of a tune so the other person will know what you’re talking about” moments have really been the extent of my musical vocalizations for well over a decade.

The other day in my violin lesson, Teacher sang along as I played the notes I was learning, the A Major scale, while I spoke their names aloud.  As I was practicing yesterday by myself, I started to sing them too.  Associating the notes with the pitch in my head, I realized, is a valuable learning tool.  I’ll know if it sounds right that way.  As poor as my voice is, it’s still more in tune than my finger positions on the violin, at least for now!  And who knows what might happen as I keep playing and singing?

Thanks for reading.


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