Andy, my friend.

I was so saddened by Whitney’s death and I did not get a chance to watch the funeral.  So I watched half of it on Carnival Monday.  It was quite nice actually and I started thinking about my singing and the fact that I had not given my vocal coach a copy of my new cd.  So I made a plan in my head to call him sometime this week and get a cd to him.  I figured too that I would record all the songs that I had perfected with him as a tribute for all those years of work and rehearsing.  After all nothing should be wasted, not even time.

 However, on Tuesday morning my husband calls and tells me that Andy, my vocal coach, died this morning.  So I am so sad again, I can’t even watch the end of Whitney’s funeral because it seems that all the aspects of my singing, Whitney my inspiration and Andy my coach and fan, had died.  And I keep crying every time I think that I had not given him a cd.  I know why, but that is for another time.  But he would have been happy for me and I think he did so much for me that it was the least I could do. 

So his funeral was yesterday and I did not go.  Why?  I have a really foolish reason. Andy and I were never FB friends and I never found him on FB.  But on Thursday evening, I searched his name and found that not only was he on FB but he had 592 friends.  So that really hurt my feelings.  Maybe, I was not that much of a friend to him.  ( I know this is very silly, I KNOW. It gets even sillier) I decided therefore, that I would just be one in a huge crowd at his funeral and so I would not go. But I did send him a friend request though.  My sister shook her head when I told her; she jokingly remarked that he should accept the friend request.  When I checked my FB page yesterday evening, guess what, he accepted it, well someone accepted it on his behalf.  And so he became my 500^th friend.  While reading his page though, I started to cry again because I realized that, I was not ready to go to his funeral.  I was not ready to see him dead in a coffin; I just was not ready for him to die.  I read up a little about dealing with death and I understand that I am in the guilt phase and that you often feel confused.  That would explain my facebook rationale which seemed very stupid to me but I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to go. 

But you know what you meant to me  Andy and you will always have that place in my heart as someone who believed in me and my potential. You would always have that place as a friend who listened to me when I my heart was too heavy to sing and as a true coach who made me dig so deep in my soul that I cried when I sang.  I thank you for that. 

I thank you for stopping me from singing for free everywhere and for teaching me about where I should and should not perform, (read bittersweet bar, lol).  I thank you for teaching me to value my voice and charge a fee to perform.  I thank you for helping me understand the politics of competition in Trinidad so that when I placed so low on Scouting for Talent, the pain was not so bad.  I thank you for “boffing me” to a level of excellence that surprised even me. I thank you for singing at my wedding even though you sang what you wanted and refused to tell me in advance. I thank you for teaching me to respect time and to be scared to reach late to our rehearsals.  I thank you for being my friend in life and in death.

This is how I will remember you.  I thank you for just being you.

One Moment In Time

It is taking me a little time to say something about Whitney Houston’s death.  I have been living in my head a lot lately and her death has my mind searching for a place of peace about it.

 I am a singer.  As a singer, I have always looked for songs that I could identify with, learn and perform.  More than being a singer though, I love music.  Good music.  One of my schoolmates used to call me Whitney at a point, which I was honored to be called.  I don’t think she ever called me by my name.  Now that the real Whitney has gone when I look back, I can remember all the moments that her music shaped my life.

It was One moment in time that taught me about dreaming for something bigger in life.  In addition, that song showed me how to place emotion into my vocal performance.  One of my best performances was singing that song at a graduation while pregnant with my first son.  I learnt that night that its very hard to breathe while performing when you are pregnant.

It was The Greatest Love of All that taught me about loving myself and it was the song that I won Music Radio 97’s Karaoke competition in 2005 after losing badly (ya’ll know that I am a sore loser) the year before.

It was Miracle in 1990 something that told me about a mother’s love and abortion though I would not understand it until my own son was born in 2006.  It taught me about the church and about judgmental views as another school friend sat next to me in a taxi as the song played.  It was the first time I had heard it and she said “that song is abortion, you know” Whether it was true or not, my eyes opened a little that day to the ways of this world, knowing that the church I grew up in could care less about Whitney Houston.

It was Saving all my love for you that the Sunday school teacher told us about how bad secular music was as this woman was singing about infidelity and unfaithfulness.  And while I never condemned Whitney for that song, I would never learn or perform it as it was not what I stood for or ever would want to sing about.

And it was I will always love you that an old boyfriend once told me that he would marry me if I could sing that song for him.  Funny thing is I never tried to sing it at that point.  Maybe subconsciously I knew he was not the one that I would marry even though I thought so at the time.  Too many people tried to sing that song that year and did very poorly at that too.  When I did learn the song, it was too outdated and over performed for me to want to sing it.

And It was I have nothing, that the was the wrong song the dj played at a competition I entered.  I had to go way down south to a bar for the show and when I cued the music the dj played the wrong track.  I knew the song but I wasn’t prepared to perform it.  One member of the audience said, “people need to stop singing these old Whitney Houston songs now, geez”.  And I did stop for some time, adding in Alicia Keys, Fantasia, Jennifer Hudson and now Adele.  I also learnt that night to beware of deejays; they could ruin your performance.

I did not stop singing I believe in you and me though, which I sang at many weddings including my own.  My manager at the time insisted that I sing that night and so I did with a soundtrack that I borrowed from Francis Prime who was the saxophonist for our wedding reception.

About a month ago, I purchased the soundtrack for I look to you.  Whitney Houston had finally started singing again.  Her troubled life was reflected in her voice, a sad vestige of her former glory but full of hope for better days.  I used to pray for Whitney Houston you know.  Laugh if you will but I knew that the God she served also heard my prayers and I had hoped and prayed that she would live and sing again.  And my prayers were answered and she sang I look to you in a key so low reserved for altos.  I would sing a lower range song when I had a cold and could not hit high notes very well.

And it was I look to you that got me through some of my darkest times in the recent past.  I would sit in the car, loop the song and cry all the way home from work.  I had been doing that for some weeks actually.  The final Friday evening I stopped in front of my gate, rest my head on the steering wheel and cried and cried.  I knew then that that was a situation I had to walk away from as it was becoming very toxic for me.

It’s those of us left behind that feel the sadness.  Maybe we may be being selfish, only thinking about what she meant to us.  What about what she meant to herself?  What about how much suffering she was going through?  I guess I am not so sad that she has died but that her last few years of life were such an awful battle.  The lives of these artistes really made me consider what price I was willing to pay to go the distance as a vocalist.  I have dreamt of going further with my music but I have also dreamt of having a happy marriage and family life.  I know that it can be done but I also know that nothing is free and I do not know what price I will have to pay to have it all.  Whitney Houston, supposedly had it all but in the end lost it all, marriage, family stability and her health.  Worse of all she lost her voice and then lost her life.  Her music will live on with me as I am sure it will all of us and so will the lessons I learnt through her music and her struggles.  May your soul rest in peace Whitney.

I burst into tears sometimes

I burst into tears sometimes. Maybe it's a song I heard; maybe it's an article I read. My mind is so full of thoughts of the past, thoughts of my present and dreams of my future. Why? Why not? Maybe, maybe not, should, should not, could, just could not. I guess I am coming up to a milestone age, I am really going deep. Liking myself a lot lately. Standing up for myself and who I am is okay. I remember Oprah talking about that, it must be a milestone thing. Its cliché but I tried to be who I thought I should have been but I have been drawn to the path of who I have to be by the sheer magnetism of destiny, the allure of being all, all that I could be. The music hasn't been sweeter, the good food hasn't tasted so good. Really, somehow, food tastes better these days. But back to the philosophical.

Here's the thing, bad is good. Somehow, bad is not bad at all. Well maybe there are some really bad things but the things we think are bad help us so much. Good does not really help at all actually. Good is the prize for getting through bad. The negative experiences have molded me, brought me down, down low. I became a very strange person actually.

But then I forgave myself. I released myself from all that I thought I needed to be and now I am focused on only being who I want to be, who I need to be for me. Yes, it is selfish and that too is good because once I am good to me, I can be good to everybody. And I forgave everybody else too and I now I finally have peace. I really did, I forgave everybody and
I moved on.

My Big Chop

I did the "big chop" (cut off all my hair) a couple of months ago coinciding with many other "big chops" in my life. Somehow, I am in a place now where I need to make sense to me ALL the time. My hair has always been a statement about myself and this time it is no different. I am going all natural though. I have nothing against the wigs and weaves; I may actually put in some whenever I feel like it. However, that is it for the relaxer; I actually take better care of my natural hair. I have found relaxed hair to be quite uninteresting too having been spoiled by the fullness of the weave, lol.

As for the comments, I have my twa blonde, and I've found that the men seem intrigued by the color and my complexion. Quite amusing. The last time I cut it off though, the women frustrated me the most, ridiculing my decision. I am older and wiser now though, and natural hair is actually more acceptable than it was 10 years ago when I first did it. I have resolved to find a good natural hair hairdresser and keep my hair as fabulous as it always was. I have also resolved to speech off anybody who asks me what is going on with that head? A question that broke my morale the last time but will not this time around!