Oh, blogosphere, I am so partied out. With good reason, since my dad got married this weekend and my unbelievably good-looking brothers were in town.
I think I look kind of like a big black rectangle, but let that pass, because it was an awesome weekend, and we all had a wonderful time together.
But now it’s New Year’s Eve and nothing could possibly entice me to leave my warm-ish apartment and go out into the night, not even champagne. I’ve had a particularly productive day–got three audition applications put together and ready to be mailed out on Wednesday, did some actual resume-writing work, attended a conference call for the resume-writing company I’m working for, had dinner, and watched more than one episode of Wife Swap, of which I am deeply ashamed. I’ve been driven to Wife Swap by the pathetic offerings of my cable package. Harumph.
I’m blogging now because I’m afraid that if I read or watch any more TV I will absolutely fall asleep (on Christmas Eve, when I had to stay awake to go sing in church at 10, I baked brownies, just for something to do that would keep my brain engaged). So I thought I would write about 2012.
I’ve had this Carole King song stuck in my head all day, especially the lyric that I’ve quoted in this entry’s title: We are the lucky ones. / Some people never get to do / all we get to do.
(Also, I just started listening to Tapestry as a writing soundtrack, and “So Far Away” came on…and I felt myself start to tear up. At the drop of the hat, these days.)
Anyway. I keep thinking about this year, and no matter how much I complained about it, it’s true–most people never get to do what I got to do this year. Here’s a little summary, in case you haven’t been reading since the beginning:
1. I lived in Paris.
2. I traveled to Vienna, Dublin, Edinburgh, Cardiff, Valencia, Buxton (via Manchester), Chartres, La Rochelle, and possibly others that I can’t think of.
3. I sang solos for packed churches in Paris, Saint-Germain-en-Laye and Versailles.
4. I learned how to sing French operetta from French musicians.
5. I got paid to sing a recital program that I came up with myself.
6. I got to sing a lead role in a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta in front of an audience full of people who knew every word of the show–and I won an award for it.
7. I drove cross-country with my dad.
8. I got paid to sing gorgeous choral music with wonderful musicians.
9. I saw an opera from a box at the Palais Garnier.
10. I interviewed for a job at Disneyland Paris.
11. I became fluent in a second language.
12. I got to see Sumi Jo and June Anderson and Fanny Ardant and Sarah Connolly and Sandrine Piau perform. And they were all amazing.
13. I got to eat French bread every day, and periodically I got to eat foie gras, Mont Blanc, goat cheese and saucisson, among other things.
I mean…as they say, perhaps it is ignoble to complain.
I think that’s the way to look at things, and in 2013 I am going to aim for positive thinking at all times. I get to audition for important opera companies and choruses and directors. I get to learn more about my city and its environs by driving all over the place for gigs and auditions. I get to learn music every day. I get to work from home.
Somebody asked me how my year had been overall, and I said that I thought in 2012 I laid the groundwork for what I need to do in 2013 to make my singing career a reality. And I think that positive thinking is a huge part of that. People often ask me how I deal with the rejection, how anybody can possibly continue in a career where success is by no means certain, and in fact for the majority of people, success is totally elusive.
Voici mon secret. Il est très simple.
What I tell myself is, “Somebody makes it in this business, and it might as well be me.” That’s why I sing for everybody, even at risk of getting rejected. I got waitlisted at a company I was really interested in working for next summer, and my first thought was, “Well, it’s at least better than two years ago when I got rejected outright.” Baby steps, my friends. That’s what it’s all about. It’s about banging on doors until one opens, and if the doors don’t open, it’s about climbing in through a window. Which God may or may not have opened, if you believe Maria von Trapp.
So there it is. That’s my New Year’s Resolution. Positive attitude and singing every day for anybody who will listen. I’m not resolving to eat healthier or exercise more, because if I’m happy and singing, the other stuff will happen naturally.
So ‘bye, 2012. It’s been a real slice.