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My school’s choir does “Singing Valentines” every year - students buy grams for their valentines or just their friends and write their class schedule on the card. The choir splits into 2 groups of girls and 2 groups of guys, and we find them in their classes and shower them with obnoxious affection in the form of song and dance while wearing ridiculously pink outfits. Oh, high school.
My group of 8 girls’ outfits consist of pink and red plaid pajama bottoms and white wifebeaters with candy hearts with different phrases (QT 3.14 might be the most creative, ever) ironed onto the front. The back has the name of the singer and the year. I ribbon-ed the shirt/pants up and made tags with washing instructions. (I should probably be doing my homework, haha).
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No time to bead tonight. Thursdays are choir rehearsal. I was tempted to skip it but went anyway, and was glad I did, because lots of people were out for one reason or another, so I was the only voice in my section. It doesn’t happen very often, but I kind of like it when it does, because, by golly, it strips away all pretense. I can’t fudge pitches (you know–wobbling around until the you hear the person next to you nail it), sneak in late on an entrance, or hang back on something I’m just unsure of. By the end of the rehearsal, my weaknesses have been completely revealed, and some of them have been overcome. That setting of Psalm 121 by Leo Sowerby has wicked chromatic harmonies, and I’m usually paralyzed by scores that have lots of accidentals. And Howells’ “Like as the Hart” has changing time signatures and other tricky things. But I held my own quite well.
Tomorrow, “a big baventure,” as my son used to say when he was little. Art project potential galore. I’ll take pictures.