Sudbury, Massachusetts — I walk into the woodshop, my studio away from home here at my brother’s house. He is working at his desk on the other side of the wall.
I notice immediately how sheepishly I am singing, automatically conscious of being heard by someone who’s opinion I care about.
This has me come back to sensation, a shift that has become very familiar in this practice. When the head gets too dominant, locate vibration in the body and continue from there.
I sing inside a closed mouth with puffed cheeks, a micro concert shell.
I feel my lips buzzing and start popping my mouth open and closed, hearing the sound of the lips along with the sound of the voice.