I dream of Brian May. I tell him that I have one his guitars and that I had an idea of how to improve it and I told him of my idea of using potentiometers rather than switches for the pickups, so that the strength and polarity of each pickup can be set via dials. He showed me a new version of his BMG Special with 6 strange adaptors along the top edge which can be used to create some new audio effect.
A quieter day. I finalised a poem for Ink Pantry's Doctor Zhivago competition, and did 30 minutes of singing practice before my throat felt tired. I speak so little; even now, about two hours per day perhaps, primarily to Deborah quietly on the phone. For many years, perhaps over a decade, I spoke far less, perhaps not at all for many days on end, and always did speak very quietly. As a child my silence was considered a psychological problem by my teachers. The upside is that my voice should be fairly clean.
I had the insight that people who experience stomach problems due to isolation many have a direct cause in vocal silence, as both are controlled by the vagus nerve. Perhaps those who speak more have more settled digestions.
My vocal fatigue appears to be not from my vocal cords but, I surmise, muscles in the upper corners of my throat, just inside the bend of my jaw which control these. Only the 'head voice' is affected, not normal speech or 'chest voice'. A light practice session of 15 to 30 minutes can create a warm feeling of exercise there, but after a pause I find that I can't easily sing at all in this register.
I went for a walk and prepared my Christmas cards.
I'll prepare I, Sisyphus but not work on it until I can sing it satisfactorily, so my main jobs for the next month or two will be the art for this, the art and music videos for Apocalypse of Clowns, and the art and music for the new Infinite Forest re-recording, which is something I had aimed to do for 2021. I can't sing well enough yet, so I will compose as I train.
