October252009
10/25/09 - Lemon juice & honey.
I wrote to ask TJ what I should do about my overworked vocal chords. These days, I make a living with them, and there are times when I would talk for hours with little rest. Even when I sold advertisements back in college, I did not use my voice as much.
It’s clear: I haven’t learned to keep this part of my body relaxed when under demand. I grow hoarse after a while, unable to reverse the tightness.
When I was in district chorus, My sweet singer replied,
lots of the kids drank water with lemon juice and honey.
A lemon a day shared amongst glasses of water, I took up the formula as a first step to improvement. From there, I have also been inspired to work on my voice and polish my speech. I have always wanted to develop greater eloquence. Since I now have a career that depends on such progress, and also provides opportunities for practice, I am pushing forth.
It is a sign of a wonderful profession, isn’t it -
that we are able to seek growth in areas of our choice?
***
While studying Renee Grant-Williams’ Voice Power,
I highlighted these lines:
A technique always works best when it is invisible, that is, when it has become a deeply ingrained habit. And that only happens over time and with plenty of practice.
The remainder of this chapter on Voice Production reviewed a classic model for learning (therefore, change):
Unconscious Incompetence
Maybe you’ve never given much thought to how you sound or whether there was any prospect of doing anything about it. Having no idea what is wrong or what is possible can be a rather blissful stage.
Conscious Incompetence
Here, you are all too aware that improvements could be made. You’ve learned a few techniques, but they are new and might feel a bit strange. This stage is not much fun.
Conscious Competence
You have mastered a host of new skills, but at this stage, you still need to concentrate to keep all the balls in the air.
Unconscious Competence
This is the voice nirvana that we have been working toward. These techniques have become a part of you. You use them without thinking. Technique has set you free.
***
Damian once told me that the day I master my tango technique, I will turn a beginner once more. Only, a new kind this time - I will begin to truly feel the music, and dance.
***
Conscious now of an incompetence, the work commences.
To help me, Grandma shared some honey in a little vodka bottle (though I don’t believe she drinks Smirnoff Ice; it must be from my uncle’s house). Mom gave me a ceramic juicer as a gift. She had carried it all the way back from the Reading Terminal Market:
Philadelphia, we meet again.
