Fum, Fum, Fum

 I've been thinking a lot about singing lately. I believe I was about seven when I walked into my first voice lesson, and despite a few bouts of stage fright, it's been true love ever since. I simply love singing. I've sung a million places for a million reasons: death, marriage, shows, recitals, dinners, alone and in ensemble, churches, parks, halls, the car and the shower.  There are many things I am capable of doing, but none have I worked so hard or so long at as singing, and none would I miss more if it were taken from me.

I'm about to reveal my true inner geek here so be kind. I was thinking earlier today about when I have been most truly engaged in singing.  The person I am most comfortable singing with is my Hunky. We've led worship together so many times I have lost count. Singing with him is effortless and it allows me to lose myself in the music like I can't do any other time. There is no thinking, there is just music.  That's one type of joy.

The other occasion I came up with is from college when I sang with the David Lipscomb Early Music Consort.  When I  think of a true group of musical geeks, those are the names and faces that come to mind. We played herdy-gurdy's, lutes, crumhorns  ( a very serious instrument indeed ), psalters,  and recorders of all sizes. We sang in languages people didn't know existed to tunes time has forgotten. We dressed funny. We were challenged and bloomed under a gentle, brilliant giant of a man who never took himself seriously, but who loved to make ancient music come alive like no one I have ever met.  I realized today that I miss both the challenge and the silliness I had in this group. I even took a moment to look around the internet and see if there was anything of a madrigal flavor locally, but unless I go back to college - unlikely - there doesn't appear to be.  I'm more than a bit envious that a group of folks I went to college with are continuing the tradition in Nashville, which is just close enough to tempt me, but not at all close enough to be in any way possible.

Perhaps it's just fond remembering of something that wouldn't be at all the same. Dear Dr. Moore, our fearless leader passed away suddenly just last year.  Maybe it's a glimpse of something that may yet be part of my future. I believe I would embrace it if it did. Maybe it's just my way of remembering who I am, and how I came to be this me.

If you took the time to read this far, I hope you'll stay a bit longer and enjoy this little video.  This isn't the group I sang with now decades ago, but it is the group that has branched off from that. I did sing this song when I was in college, and my daughters looked at me oddly when I suddenly started singing it again with the video. I still remember every word. Conducting is the Gentle Giant I remember, and I can see in my mind's eye the corner of his mouth quirked in a tiny grin and his eye twinkle when every note came out just right.  There are people in this group that I remember blending voices with, and the gentleman vocalist on the far left is the man who married the Hunky and I.  Ah me, time is a funny thing...like smoke.

No comments: