Hear ye, hear ye

Announcement, world: I am going craz-y. 

Yes, I know. People proclaim this all the time, especially the last few weeks of school. But of me, it is actually true. I talk to my paper on Urban Gothic Novel Theology. I think about Masai warriors and find myself aimlessly jumping up and down in front of the window and humming. I . . . . I . . . I think the Sacred Harp people brainwashed me. 

You see, this past week I have been singing. A lot. And - loudly (as my long-suffering roommate pointed out). I have been wondering where it came from, this sudden feeling of music swelling in me, and finally have pinpointed the shape note singing as the cause. Yes. Something about that vibrant, eerie, ear-splitting music made me fall in love again with singing and I've been warbling my lungs out this past week. 

It comes as an especial comfort now. Ever since I lost all my music in the Great Hard Drive Crash, my music-loving self has been depressed, apathetic. I began to worry that I was losing my passion, that I would become one of those people, you know, the kind who don't listen to music. Even Nickel Creek -Nickel Creek- couldn't pull me out of the funk. 

And I realize something now. Since I abandoned the world of Musical Theatre, voice lessons, etc., to pursue English (oh my love), musical exploration - as opposed to performance - has been my only outlet. So I've delved deep and wide (mostly deep) across different musical spectrums, and have discovered many new infatuations in the process (Franz Ferdinand. Kate Rusby. Ingrid Michaelson. The Format. Doug Burr). All this has been well and good and wonderful. But I handed the singing rights to all those other legit voice people who stuck with it, and screwed a very tight lid on my own interest in musical expression. And now Sacred Harp has made me remember that I have a voice, and even if though it isn't the best or prettiest or well-trained, it's still an utter joy to use it.  

And so using it I am. Although I want to apologize to Val for that rousing 8 a.m. rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" while she was studying for a nursing quiz. Sorry, roomie.