Wow this was a hard read today. Christopher Hitchens has lost his voice. In the latest Vanity Fair he writes about his feelings on this...as his illness progresses. I made it as far as the pig with the wooden leg and started to cry.
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He is listening to Leonard Cohen (If It be Your Will) and quoting T.S.Eliot's Prufrock. (sigh)
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As I read his thoughts, I had to keep stopping. I kept thinking of many things at once. How unfair it is that people get cancer and suffer, how I'll miss his wit and intellect when he is gone, how I hate saying that because he isn't gone yet, how I miss my dad who died from cancer.
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How I love my own voice and how great it was that for many years I was able to use it to the best of my ability working in radio. How I love to sing! Not that I was that great...but I loved to do it... the blues doesn't come from you...it comes through you!
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How I took Voice Production courses in college and loved them so much that I took more and more of them, and did an independent study in it, working with freshmen in "voice labs," which were really just study periods for voice students, but I learned so much about how to use my voice and help others use theirs. I love that. I even thought about going further.... maybe a Master's or Doctorate in Communications like my professor. She had my ideal job. But I didn't do it.
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A different path taken, but voice work none the less. And I had a lot of fun doing what I did do so far in life.
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And I think, what if I couldn't speak anymore?
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He says, find your own voice.
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I totally understand.
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