Day melts into eve

I took the weekend off for the second time in a row.  I hope this does not develop into an ill-fated choice.  I’ve very much enjoyed Friday evening, Saturday, and today (thus far).  Although, I’ll confess I feel a slightest bit guilty that its already Four o’clock in the afternoon and I’ve yet to get out of my PJ’s and shower.  I’ve always made fun of my beloved one for her Pajama Days, and today I’ve fallen victim to the comfy-fuzzies myself.

We saw two films this weekend.  On Friday evening, we saw Law Abiding Citizen; which turned out to be wonderfully intriguing, with all sorts of wicked little surprises exploding and hurling this way and that.  On Saturday Afternoon, Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince, which was a good thing to see.  Granted, we were only able to see the second film because it was playing at the Academy Theater—a sort of last stop before disappearing—where films are much cheaper.  Tickets for $4.  And, not surprisingly at all, the fact that it was Harry Potter did play its own whimsical part in coincidental timing. Each year, the crisp air, and bright, drifting leaves of Autumn throw me back into my fascination with magic and mystery.  This year, Harry Potter sealed the deal.

Onto even weirder matters, in my last entry I mentioned that I’d started practicing again some of what was covered in my college Voice classes.  I’ve kept at that, with daily breathing, humming, and harmonic scales.  (I wouldn’t call it chanting myself, although someone else might.)

My beloved one points out: “You breathe all the time, whether you like it or not”, which is true.  However, the automatic breathing we do is quite shallow, we only use a portion of our lungs.  As breath equals voice, and resonance, and the shape of the breath equals tone and texture of the voice, it makes sense to explore what the capacity of my individual lungs is.  I’m not trying to huff and puff and blow the house down, just gain control of some things, about the way I breathe.  There is a point at which my hours of intended breathing—sometimes locked away in the room, sometimes walking to or from work, sometimes waiting for the bus—becomes not altogether productive, considering eventually, I’ll smoke a cigarette, and smoking does steal from the lungs, and damage them eventually.  But, I am content to build up what I can build, until I can altogether quit the habit of smoking.  And, whilst I doubt I’ll ever develop the intensely low, thick, voice of my dreams with any sort of real resonance; I am slowly, so slowly, starting to detect some very subtle changes.

I’m also stretching, daily.  I won’t call it Yoga, because it’s not Yoga (yet).  I’m not limber enough to do Yoga (yet).  But I am stretching daily, mostly focusing on my legs, spine, and arms.  I’ve been re-considering the way I sit while I’m at work, reconsidering the way I carry myself when I walk.  I’ve started doing push-ups again; I was so very out of shame.  I started with ten, then fifteen, then twenty.  Next will be twenty five; which is still weak, but getting better.  I’m also eating an apple before heading out to work; so long as there are apples available in the kitchen, that is.  Sometimes there has been a gap, between running out of them, and replacing them.

Because of all this, I have enjoyed more energy.  I feel—generally—like the blood in my veins is making its full journey, instead of taking several shortcuts.  I don’t have many complaints at the moment; I had a fantastic weekend with my Beloved One.  I’d like sunnier days, though that’s more of a wish than a complaint.  I like the cool, clean temperatures of autumn, and if the raincurtain would pull back a bit, that would be nice.

©  Jeffrey Puukka, 2009.