Rather than work on anything exciting for myself, I've recently been working on exciting things for other people, mostly my Cathedral Church. Always, pushing brinkmanship to what can only be considered a 'high art' level, I've always wondered how long this kind of tactic can last... only to find that it still serves. The fact that my dissertation came together in much the same fashion just over three years ago probably explains everything...
Still, sat here in a kind of intellectual aftermath, at least the weather's picked up. Over the last two days I completely burnt out my brain by completing this term's programme notes in a seven hour shift overnight after dining on what I can only describe as the world's hottest Thai cuisine that very evening. There's something... Irresistible about having one's back up against the deadline though, some sick thrill that cannot be ignored. Always always always my best work comes out of such a situation, and I haven't found an effective way of changing this... And it isn't as if I've tried very hard. This isn't supposed to be some sort of long overdue apology to either my teachers, my professors, my choir master or perhaps even myself (unless it is?!?), seeing as it's more a way of life that I've gradually committed myself to without too much in the way of guilt. The guilt only comes when these last-second dashes disrupt other people, a kind of sad inevitability I suppose...
Anyway. The notes will be posted here on Saturday, in accordance to the pattern I'm establishing. Unlike the printed notes, I've restored the one major paragraph that was cut by my editor out of the published notes. Thankfully, it seems my editor and I have seen more-or-less eye to eye on everything else though, and I'm immensely proud to know that my name will be printed at the end. It's strange in a way, that while here in Truro, both of my dreams have come true in a way: not only have I found a place as a full time Lay Clerk in a Cathedral Choir, I'm also being paid to write, which (if you turn your head sideways and squint a bit), makes me a professional writer as well. Look, if people can claim to be professional singers from doing the occasional concert and being paid to deputise as and when, then I can claim professionalism from writing the occasional blog and being paid for programme notes. As wonderful as this realisation is... It sort of means I need to find a new dream. Perhaps leaving here and finding a new appointment is the next big thing? I'm certainly not going anywhere right now; not only is this the worst time for any Altos to do a disappearing act, but also and more critically, I just don't want to leave. A vacancy recently came up in England, and I jumped to begin with... But then made a decision based more on value than cost. Well, it would also cost me a hell of a lot to move as well, but things are really nice down here at the moment.
Of course it isn't all perfect. Especially right now, funnily enough... The thing is, end of term is coming up and it's the end of the world in a way as well. One of my reasons for looking for another appointment is kind of down to the size of the Choral Scholar team down here. Building relationships with people that basically have an expiration date is pretty rough, and not something I'm wired up for. Yes, there's a team of Lay Vicars that make up the rest of the choir, but they're older, have jobs, families, all sorts of other commitments that simply don't exist in my life. There is a generational gap to bridge in that respect. Now, there will be two more 'young' Lay Vicars next year (including one who is still a Scholar at time of writing), but who knows what's going to happen in the next few years? They may not stay. I may not stay! Of course, the only sensible answer to this is not to worry, but since when the hell would I not want to worry? it's an integral part of my personality. I am still a very anxious person, even though I've been told how warm and engaging I am as well. My low opinion of myself continues, and I may never really know exactly what I am capable of instead of always chalking up what I can't do. But back to the point (har har), I actually deeply enjoy being in Truro Cathedral Choir. For once, I don't have much against the establishment (how unlike me), and the odd disagreement I do have with the management normally gets hashed out where it belongs: in the pub over a few jars, where it can burn out harmlessly. This kind of flare-up means it can get out of the system quicker, although there is the odd lasting grievance... I still get angry with mistakes from all quarters though, especially seeing how much I punish myself for my own. I often wonder what would happen to my career if I allowed myself to make as many mistakes... But it's not as if I'd ever relax enough for that. It seems that the one thing I have been relaxed enough for is some amateur transvestitism, donning wig and dress to help out our Organ Scholar in what I can only describe as a truly Vaudevillian concert, where I performed alongside her and friend in their organ duo.
This year races towards the end as well. After the pretty intense run up to the broadcast earlier this year, and the recording sessions, that while successful really did run all the way to the wire, this last half of term is just being eaten up fast. This Saturday is the Summer Concert of course, For the Fallen, composed mainly of settings of trench poetry (having to deal with which for the notes has left me feeling pretty delicate), then a week after that we perform a reconstruction of a Lutheran Vespers, complete with two Cantatas by J. S. Bach... and then after that it's only a fortnight til close. Although I hate change almost as much as my Boss does, I also can't stand to be alone, and the day that the Scholary empties this year will be a sad day indeed for me. I'm also pretty much going to have to find a job this year, because really being poor forever kinda sucks, and I'd much rather have some truly disposable income that I can spend on whatever I like without having to budget like an insane person. I have places to go and people to be with, and there's nothing so embarrassing as being paralysed by a lack of funds. I'm sure there's some travel deity that I ought to be sacrificing burnt offerings to in thanks for my railcard, as without that I would be truly stuck. I really want to get my automatic license this year as well, so I can get a little runaround and actually go wherever whenever around here, you know, as well as maybe drive up to see my dear mother every now and again.
It's almost time for work though. With the recent upswing in temperature, I have taken to a slightly more...relaxed state of dress (basically bare-legged) underneath my cassock, and to be perfectly honest if it gets any hotter I'm just going to take to wearing a kaftan, to hell with it... All donations to my Kaftan fund are graciously received, of course.
As my head works itself back together though, I might just find some tome to enjoy myself after all. make sure I don't get too bored. Remember, life is short; smile a lot because you don't know how long you'll have teeth for.
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