Guess what?!  This isn’t a TTD!  See?  I haven’t forgotten how to write things outside a numbered list.  Yet.

Unfortunately, though, this is a year-in-review entry.  I know, I know, these are annoying and irrelevent.  But I just looked at my 2008 round-up and I can tell you one thing – this one will be shorter.

2009 was easily one of the most arse-kickingest years of my life, if not THE most arse-kickingest (me rite gud).  And most of this is due to magical strokes of luck, rather than any wisdom or cleverness or deserving on my part.  Which is kind of annoying, in a way – it’s annoying to have tried so hard for so long, only to discover that, sometimes, quitting is the best decision you could ever make.

The one thing I didn’t explicitly say at the end of 2008 was that I had quit.  I quit performing.  I didn’t care if I never got on stage again.  I wasn’t emotional about it anymore, either.  I was just done.  Then I got an email from someone I respect a lot asking me if I wanted to be in a cabaret show.  That was one thing I’d never tried and I still loved singing.  So I said yes.  Little did I know what other huge events I’d end up saying yes to as a result.

Then came the job upheaval.  I had a choice to make there too.  To stay on and do more of the same (in a thinly-disguised ‘different’ package), or to quit and see what happens next.  I quit.  And, lo, it was amazing.

Yes, luck, luck, luck.  There’s been a lot of luck flying around for me in 2009…

I was lucky this year that, by sheer coincidence, I travelled.  A lot.

I was lucky this year to discover that some amazing people believed in me enough to put me on stage without me having to beg or to organise it myself – other people actually said ‘yes’ to my brand of silliness.  And, in the process, to realise how much I still love being ‘up there’.  And to find guidance through a most excellent vocal coach.  Yeah, all this stuff kinda rocked.

I was lucky this year because a global financial crisis meant I was granted a second chance at, well, life.

I was lucky this year that, for one mad month at least, I got a glimpse of what life could be like if my luckiness became more permanent.

I was lucky this year that my long-held theory that I could be a freelancer has come to fruition.  So far, so good.

I was lucky that, once again, my resolution to have “more music in my life” continued to be realised.

I was lucky that, all the learning about fun I did in 2008 paid dividends in 2009.

I was lucky that I’ve not only kept all my delightful friends, but I’ve made some amazing new ones who I hope continue to influence me in wacky and wonderful ways.

And I was lucky this year because I, and the people closest to me, have remained healthy and safe.

(actually, my health track-record for 2009 was impeccable – two minor colds… and that’s it.  BAM!)

Luck, luck, luck.  It was everywhere this year.  I have no idea why.  And I have no idea what lies ahead for 2010 – whether it could possibly be as fortuitous as this year.  Or more so.  Or not.

But for this year I am immensely grateful.

…Sing Sing Sing

1. We have some kick-arse jazz songstresses here in Oz.  I went to see Michelle Nicolle on Saturday, who has the brightness of Doris Day with the vocal playfulness of Ella Fitzgerald.  Another is Kristin Berardi, who brings a hint of the best possible brand of pop sensibility and playfulness to very, very smooth jazz.  And I saw Jacki Cooper a couple of years ago at Manly Jazz Festival, who can sell a song in a way to aspire to.  I wish there was somewhere in this town you could go listen to singers like these every week.  ‘Cause, dangnammit, it’s educational and I could claim it on tax.

2. Practice makes perfect - 10,000 hours of practice, in fact.  When my singing teacher mentioned these alleged ”10,000 hours”, I didn’t quite believe her.  Surely, I thought, it’s 1,000, not 10,000.  But no - 10,000 hours is exactly what the studies say. “You’ve clocked up a few this year!” she reassured me.  
I thought so too.  I did some calculation and found that for roughly 400 hours this year I have learnt and performed around 40 new songs (and still my repertoire blows – how does that work?) in four back-to-back shows, plus a few other bits and pieces.  Sounds like a lot, right?  It felt like a lot, starting the year with a shiny new approach to my voice, discovering new things, tossing aside preconceptions of the craft and of my voice,  getting ever-so-slightly better at reading music, being constantly thrown out of my comfort zone and into the deep-end, at home and overseas.  Well, if I continue THAT for a total of 10,000 hours, I’ll have all the muscle-memory, skill and stamina to “make perfect” singing BY THE TIME I AM IN MY MID-50S.  Awesome.

3. Over and over and over till I got it right.  I’ve resumed this playing-one-song-repeatedly thing I used to do years ago.  I don’t mean stuff that I have to learn – just songs that fit a mood or make me feel better or, especially, match the weather.  On a sunny day, Get-Well-Cards by Conor Oberst is one of them (FYI, I’ve just changed this link because the previous one was rubbish!).  I still can’t get enough of that song, even though the lyrics make no discernible sense to me.  It just sounds like sunshine, despite the fact that it talks about peacock people and sunscreen and wanting to wrap your head in a picket fence.

Two nights ago I thought I’d lost a brand new pair of fishnet stockings just off stage behind a curtain.

It was opening night and, though I wouldn’t use the word panicked, you could say I was a bit jittery.  I periodically went behind the curtain – in between doing hair and make-up – to see if I could find them.  It seemed that the more I went out of my way to find them, the more elusive they were.

(It’s funny how inanimate objects take on a personality when they don’t do what you want them to.  Suddenly your computer is a “slow b@$tard”, and your leaky pen is a “messy b@$tard”, though your missing stockings on opening night are probably more like ”fvckers”.)

But then someone switched on a light and they were right there - sitting on the floor by my backpack.  I must’ve looked at, rummaged through, and stood on them at least 10 times.

Last year, all I wanted was inspiration.  I’d trawl the web (on my lunch break *cough*) looking for stirring words of wisdom on creativity, on making a decent contribution to the world, on why doing your thing is worthwhile.

I searched around in the dark and, well, I couldn’t find the fvcker.  In my kind of desperate, disgruntled search, I probably walked right past it and trampled on it dozens of times.

So I played Nintendo Wii, watched every last episode of Will & Grace, and got really, really good at making pizza (really, you should try it sometime).

And somewhere along the way, the lights came on.

TV shows and singing played a significant part in this.  This is going to sound way too earnest for this blog, but I don’t think I’ve known a purer joy than these things.

Now there seems to be an abundance of inspiration.  The last few days alone have brought me a new clarity. The following two things in particular have kind of rocked my world for the better:

The first: these essays on singing from some opera singer guy.  I’m not sure who he is, but he really can string a sentence – singing without technique, the Tao of singing and the uncertainty principle are all wordy but fascinating.

Saving best for last, though, this talk on creativity from writer Elizabeth Gilbert is, in a word, amazing.  It’s also almost 20 minutes long, but I implore you to listen to it right to the end – you’ll be glad you did.

Ole indeed  :)