TAKEN FROM NOTES WRITTEN MANY YEARS AGO
I wanted to gift myself something for my 40th birthday, Stud diamond earings seemed too shallow and had too much pain associated with them, I will tell that story one day
Lying in the bath, eyes closed and wishing, it came to me in a flash. it all made sense.,
i would sing.
I had a strange relationship with my voice, I could shout well enough, just like my mother, my voice could peirce through a crowd and hit its mark with robin hood accuracy.
Standing on street corners shouting out whilst selling toffee apples in the market in London, or standing on a dinner table as a three year old dolly and entertaining my mums friends in a room full of smoke. not being able to pronounce my r`s or l`s the favourate song , which i had to sing over and over again was :-
" everybody knows he`s left me, its the talk of the town" with the resulting in hoots of laughter as it always came out " everybody knows hes effed me"
The freedom of acceptance in the Stockwell Manor school Choir
Howling freeform in the vastness of Dungeness landscape
and the deep bodily groan of giving birth, same voice placement when my boy was sent to prison 20 years later.
The voice is a strange and revealing thing full of anxiety and fear
re occuring dreams of silent screams,
fear of talking too much, for fear of being found out.
speaking my words but hearing my mothers voice
thinking "get me out of here" and saying " do you love me?"
being out of control of sentences words and my life.
so i booked up for a singing lesson. aged 60 i am still singing.