Austin — Sometimes the day will perfectly pull enough out of you that all that’s left is your sweet cravings for comfort. Industriousness … tapped out. Ambition … empty. Fancy cartwheels … unwound.
What’s left is that simple place in your voice, the one you would sing to a baby, the one that carries no edge, but rather rocks your own big self gently into silence.
For me it can be different at different times. Today it’s falsetto, a soft and lazy mouth opening, easy resonance on hard palate, a vowel close to ooh. I welcome these times when simple is plenty.