There is a tension inside me, two arts pulling me, two loves demanding my attention.
I am a singer. I have always been a singer. I don’t know who I am without this identifier. Singing has been my defining activity for as long as I can remember. I would rather sing than do almost anything…at least, that’s how it has always been.
I am a writer. I am beginning to love this new identifier. I have come to love writing as much as I do singing. More, lately, if I am honest. I will wake first thing in the morning and want nothing better than to get my hands on the keyboard and type in the thoughts I had as I was falling asleep (if I remember them), or as I woke in the early morning hours before dawn. I see scenes play out in front of me, and I want to capture them with words.
And so the tension. How do I reconcile both, make them play nice with each other and let me have some peace? Theoretically, there isn’t any reason I can’t do both. But in reality… well, that’s another thing entirely. It is difficult for me to give my energy to both, as evidenced by the past weeks – I was supposed to be preparing for a recital while at the same time I was writing to meet a deadline. I eventually had to just give up the writing and concentrate on the singing. The writing project was turned in as-is, for someone else to tinker with. Luckily, that is precisely her job.
There is so much more to say, but I’m still working this out for myself. I am sure I will come back to it again. For now, it is enough to give words to my struggle.