Mr. Cellophane

In the musical Chicago the husband of the murderess-on-trial sings a song called "Mr. Cellophane", the man that everybody looks through but never sees. A cellophane man, whom everyone looks right through as if he wasn't there. As a mature "Aspy", I appreciate the sentiment.

When you run your own business, you've got to be rather blunt with yourself about your up and down sides vis a vis the business at hand. Mine is a people business, where the clients MUST be able to relax with me to allow me to do that which I so definitely can do for them but only if allowed to by that client at that moment. It's a "permission" thing. To show your heart and soul to a stranger is difficult for most of us at any time. But as a portrait photographer ... I'm not only a "stranger" to the clients at a first session, I'm pointing a camera at them while asking them to show me their heart!
 
The portrait biz is based on three things: 1) the technical knowledge of your medium (camera, brush, whatever ...), 2) the knowledge of art concepts that have been deeply absorbed into the back-waters of your brain, and 3) the ability to get the right, most appropriate and most fascinating expression/pose from your client in that narrow moment that your abilities in parts one and two above have created. One and two must simply flow from the artist as nearly as possible without conscious effort, in order to allow both the artist and subject to concentrate on three.

The third one flows from the relationship in that moment between the subject and the artist, and the willingness of the subject to bare their heart and soul. "Permission to look deeply into the soul", as it's been called so many times by so many people ... that's an incredibly personal thing to ask of someone. It calls for an amazing level of trust. It's not easy for anyone to do. It even has taken a lot of work for me to trust another photographer, no matter how well I know them. I appreciate the ... hesitation ... concern ... fears ... of any client.

And as someone on that Aspergers/Autism "spectrum", it can be difficult for me to achieve that level of trust with someone who doesn't know me well. Yet I've managed it so many times, with wondrous images as the result. And there have been many times that I've been able to create worthwhile images that the client does enjoy, but based on my mastery of parts one and two above, and the agility with which I've learned to work around the occasional difficulties with part three.

After all, I am a professional at this, not an amateur. I will get at least several darn good images. Period.

But Aspy/NT rules do apply. I know, that for my friends with (for example) boats ... when they think up who they want to spend a day with out on their boat, I'm not gonna be on the top of the list. Not because they don't like to be around me in other circumstances ... but ... I'm just not gonna be the one they think of for light casual fun. And, even when I've done amazing portraits with a client, they won't automatically think of wanting to use my services for their next portrait need either.

It's not because my friends or clients dislike me, or don't appreciate my skills and abilities. The problem is not negative personal connotations. It's not even a conscious choice on their part. It's in the nature of my being Aspy and their being N/T. That odd intermingling of brain capabilities and natures between N/T's and Aspys.

I'm good enough at my relations with most Neuro-typicals (N/T's, or "normal" people) that I've managed to become a "neutral" presence emotionally. Neither warm-fuzzy nor rasty nasty. It's taken years of hard work, but at least, far fewer find me the mildly irritant presence than used to do so.

But as a "neutral" presence, I'm neither on the list of folks they really really want to spend time with or the list of people they want to avoid. I'm not going to make any list at all with most people. Essentially, it's like Amos (heart-breakingly played by John C. Reilly in the movie) singing about being Mr. Cellophane.

I've been "in the biz" for nearing 40 years now. Time was, a photographer sold his/her value based on their experience, demonstration of photographic excellence through both images and professional awards, and the surety of running a solid, reliable business. That's not this time. Years of experience are not of interest to most potential clients. "Everybody" seems to be able to have pretty pics on their website, whether or not they can do that repeatedly or without needing  500 "shots" per client to get two or three decent ones. And realistically, "good enough" is a LOT lower bar than it used to be.

And as to experience ... do you realize how few people actually think about whether a portrait photographer even KNOWS how to run a business these days? That is certainly not a "decisionable" factor for most potential clients.

In these days, in this time ... it's all about how people feel about the photographer. Or, if they've not worked with her/him before, how they think they'll feel about working with him/her based on websites, social media, and comments by others that may have some experience with that photographer ... or may simply have looked at a website once. Of a different photographer.

For an Aspy portraitist, it's a really, really difficult time to make a living. When you're good enough in personal relations with most N/T's to become a neutral presence (rather than an irritant) you're doing well as an Aspy, yet you've disappeared as a person. Quite an interesting challenge to overcome.

Cellophane,  Mister ... Cellophane ...

Special Damnations

Unless I've got a special reason ... either desperate need to be part of a decision or that rarest of gifts, an NT who actually groks me and has learned to trust what my brain can do ... I need to behave as a highly sanitized caricature of an NT. That's simply a fact of life for anyone on the Autism/Asperger's spectrum who wants to be accepted into polite conversations with most of the people of the world. And most importantly, my highest, best capability needs to stay completely buried. My greatest gift is actually, in NT company, my biggest damnation.

My main Aspy "gift" is that my brain has the natural ability to store billions of data-bits, many for years ... and then seemingly "immediately" connect several of them with things I've just heard, read, or seen to come up with a new thought or insight. It's called analysis, of course, but I can do it to an extent that is well past most people. And I do mean well past most people.

 As both John Elder Robison and Temple Grandin point out, many of us (though not all) that live on the "Spectrum" have special ... abilities. Call them talents, gifts, whatever. Between perhaps greater simple brain ability (in specialized areas) and the ability to focus both tighter and longer than Neuro-Typical or "NT" people, we can take thoughts and ideas farther and faster than our normal peers. But it is that very ability to go farther and faster ... often blindingly faster ... that we tend to be seen as pariahs or (benevolently) ... simply "weird".

Openly displaying or using such un-seeable talents  is not acceptable within NT universe, unless they've already given you some sort of accredited "degree" for such a thing. Ok, a physics professor (fully "Doctorated" and tenured) can go on about physics, sure. But outside that, you've got to explain to them how your brain works and they've got to be able understand the explanation, so that they can actually decide to pay attention to you. If you can't accomplish both in 20 words or less, save your breath and their patience and goodwill. And that is the rub ... we use language so differently that the chances of my being able to achieve both parts of the previous sentence (with the average NT) are the same as the proverbial snowflake's chance of surviving in Hell.

One needs to be trusted first to qualify as an acceptable "expert", and as my brain works (and I appear) ... weird ... I ain't NEVER gonna get that trust.  I will not be able to make my unique capability understood, nor therefore will what I say be trusted. And so using my analytical capability ... even in the most restricted and totally OBVIOUS simple little way (to me) ... makes everything else  I say untrustworthy, of suspicious origin, and ... unbelievable. And going back to the way I cannot see, "read", and naturally respond to and with the little physical things that NT's do in "normal" conversation, it simply is hard proof to so many people that I'm generally not trustworthy. Not made of good, solid intellectual or character material. Pleasant enough perhaps to be around ... but never trustworthy.

 Oh yes, I see the wall all the time. Though the NT's around me don't, I do ... it's ... there. Those expressions follow me everywhere I go. The lack of trust, the complete inability to take me or my words seriously (no matter how politely folks may appear) are always, ever there.

To the few NT's who have learned enough of me to give me that trust, to listen to me, and to value my abilities ... you mean the world to me! But of the thousands of NT's I've been around and worked with in my 59 years, that would be ... oh, I think we're maybe up to double digits. That's not double-digits "currently" ... that's double digits over the entire 59 years.

Well, "they" do say it's lonely at the top, don't they?

Verbally Blind

Although it may seem that the last few posts are discussing mostly the problems I have being understood by others, it's really a completely equal two-way smashup. True, I can't get a lot of "content" through in any attempt at detailed discussion. But the corollary ... is that I miss SO much of the "intended" communications of those around me that they send to me. I just can't "grok" the meanings they want to get into my head anymore than they seem able to "grok" mine.

And it's dastardly ... bizarre. You see, it isn't that I (or most other high-functioning Aspergians) don't get, for example,  satiric or ironic comments ... because I and "we" ... use them and enjoy such things. I/we understand most jokes and forms of humor, and both respond to and employ these things in ways so close to the Neruro-Typical or "Enty" way of doing it that we tend to do pretty well (at least most of the time!) within these forms of the obviously different-from-dictionary word usage. These "altered meaning" practices tend to be pretty obviously ... altered. We're cool with that.

Where we Spectrumites fall on our faces is in the rather normal, mundane and "straight-forward" discussions that make up the majority of human interaction. The ones everyone is presumed able to understand. The "face value" comments and statements, that it turns out ... aren't nearly as "face value" as they supposedly are.

Or perhaps, that's really the problem ... for the Enty population,  face is valuable. It's nearly everything. Remember those paragraphs explaining how Enty's take all that sensorial data in along with the words? In their brains, it's all inter-connected and the words only "mean" what the totality of data says they mean. In our brains, out on our spectrum, it isn't. Oh, really ANGRY faces we see ... and really any "something" faces. We do see them. Though even then, as we note internally that the person is in whatever emotional state they are showing, we only see it as a side-detail to the conversation. The words are still the words, right?

No ... the words aren't just the words. They never ... or rarely ... are. And it's in the most subtle facial/vocal/breath/body/eye-corner details, in the more "bland" or straight-forward-seeming sentences and comments ... that those other details matter far more than the words. That those other details give the intended meaning to the words. So often completely at digression from a straight literal dictionary translation of the words stated, if done word-by-word.

I, and others on the spectrum, can neither "see" nor interpret those very important data bits any more than a blind person can tell you how many posters are stuck to the wall by just looking at the wall. In both cases, the wiring simply isn't there. Even knowing this is the process, there's no way I can guess either. I don't see (in literal reality) those subtle shifts at the corners of the eyes. And if I do see them, I've no way to understand how to interpret them, from the thousands of meanings they could have.

I'm damn near "verbally blind", as are most of my "ilk". And that's a right uncomfortable thing to be.

Autism/Aspergers vs "Normal" Communication Part II

John Elder Robison has an example of how differently we Spectrumites communicate from EnTy's, about our typical lack of complex motives when we on the Spectrum speak. His example: If we tell someone that the red dress they're wearing today makes them look fat (or if we've learned some sophistication, "heavy") and the blue dress they wore yesterday doesn't, it's simply a direct attempt to help them look their best. We're only passing on useful information. They should go home and put the blue dress back on.

There's no emotional content nor any other implication intended within the comment. It is a purely factual communication. Direct, simple, straightforward, and most importantly to us, useful for the other person. The best kind of communication, right? They should even thank us for it.

However, what most EnTy's will "hear" is that we intentended to insult them, and they will never ... ever ... believe otherwise. And worse, they'll KNOW that any attempt by us to "explain" our silly excuse for reasoning is just a show of  how STUPID we think they are (that we think they'd believe such crap!). Once they've taken a comment 'wrong', there's no recovery possible, or at least, likely.

Mr. Robison's example is straight-forward and in some ways comical, and I know many EnTy's will consider it perhaps 'extreme'. My experience is similar to Mr. Robison's, but ... in real life it goes ever so much farther than his example. Everything I say to an EnTy is processed in the same way. Every instruction to an employee, every suggestion in a meeting, every conversational comment to clients or friends ... it is all processed this way by the other side, in a way which I can neither natively understand, predict, nor accomplish on my own.

Even in this, as I'm trying to be precise in an attempt to communicate clearly, I will probably fail with many (or probably most) of the people who may ever read this LONG epistle. It will be all sorts of things "wrong" but not the right things "right". Because I've found, even in written language, there's something different about the way En-Ty's perceive my words that I can't ... fathom.

The few times I've had "successes" at getting much meaning across have been only a partial success ... a few percent of the idea made it across. It's been rare to actually get any complex idea absorbed in a way that it is still useful to others in the way that I meant it, so that they acted on it as I had envisioned. And as always, if I try to correct the perceptions of what I'd said, people get puzzled ... then they get ticked at me.

My communications successes have mostly been in dire emergencies. It seems that the ONE time that EnTy's shut down that predictive-meaning facility is in DIRE emergencies, when most people's upper-brain functions shut down in general. Suddenly, they hear my commands as simply and exactly the words I intend them to be, follow precisely my bluntly stated commands, and ... we get through, with everyone amazed at how strange it was that I could communicate so clearly and take command so easily. But as soon as their brains relax, it's back to ... normal.

John Elder Robison and Temple Grandin and others all say that with time and experience "we" get better at getting along in EnTy society. We become functionally near enough to "normal" as to be fine and enjoy life with and among EnTy's  just dandy (or at least, close enough).

I've not found that the case. Most people I'm around don't even realize I am on that spectrum. I'm not such a display-case that it's obvious except to those with good experience in these things. One would think that being (at least in appearance) closer to "normal" than most of my true peers, I should have somewhat better communication results. Or at least, some ability to improve the quality of my communications with EnTy's to a sort-of comfortable state. Not so, at least, not with only 37 years of adult attempts.

The only way I've really found to achieve a "comfortable" state in communications with EnTy's is ... to stop almost all attempts to talk with EnTy's on anything past the weather and how old their kids are. In any subject past that, there will be miss-communications galore. At some point, I'll make what seems a simple straight-forward comment, perhaps even just a hmmm of agreement, and the conversation hits a hard STOP as they're standing there somehow completely puzzled by my response. And when I realize it's happened again, if I try to correct the "miss", it makes the personal interaction worse. So it's much easier (both socially and emotionally) to try and fade into the woodwork, to become ... less. Less obvious, less "there", and less ... me.

But that of course makes it impossible for me to get anything done that matters to me. Life is created by the doing of something worthwhile. For my business to take good care of my family (and make some sort of non-peon retirement possible) I need to be able to make things happen. And yet as I spin my mental wheels in all this analytical mud, my brain racing around trying to find SOME way to get traction and move forward somehow, all that this excellent reasoning power of my brain shows me is that ... This Is The Way It Is. This Is Why It Is. And ... It ... just ... IS.

And so far, it seems there's no way to fix it. Every communication of any length or depth I have with every Enty I meet always leaves me aware I've ... surprised them somehow. That I didn't communicate something that I'd expected, wanted, or needed to with them. That I've left them wondering about some puzzling comment or pause or whatever. And it leaves me feeling very isolated, singular, and separate.

No, I'm neither proud of nor comfortable with being a Spectrumite. It's what I am, similar to being say left-handed or long-bodied/short-legged. It just is. It is often a cause of embarrassment and emotional hurts, both for myself and sadly (and to my shame) for others. But my continual lack of ability to get traction burns.

I should be able to do better than this ... and I will always try.

Autism/Aspergers versus "Normal" Communication

In tested mental capabilities, I'm HEAVILY geared for analysis/synthesis, and that capability comes with a ton of native "horsepower". Which naturally means I look at things around me, analyze, re-think, and envision alternate ways of doing anything. That's me. That's how I see the world every minute. I analyze, I pull things apart in my head, and see if there's another way to put them back together that might be better for at least some purpose than the way things are now. And truthfully, there are always ways to improve things.

But I'm not a tin-pot dictator in some third-world country with the self-awarded title of "Colonel", wearing a cute quasi-military uniform I designed for myself. And no, I don't even have those darling aviator "shades". So I can't order anyone to follow my ideas and threaten them with torture for failing to understand me. Not even within my own business. I have to use words to illustrate and define my ideas, and make my thoughts understandable to and for those who must then help plan the implementation and carry out my ideas and goals.

I was an English Lit major in college, and compared to my peers in the department, writing was a strength. But as an adult, even though interpersonal communication seems like something I should be able to do in my sleep, it has been so often a botch-job that I learned to dread meetings. Not that my efforts always seem so "botched" by others, but that so rarely does any real depth of my intent get across the Great Divide.

As part of my continuing studies of the Autism/Aspergers spectrum, I have learned to understand some of the communications differences between those of us who are "Spectrumites" (my newly-minted term) to those who are "Neuro-typical", or "N/T's" (let's call them "En-Ty's", for short). And yes, there is a sort of code-book situation going on. A horrifying one from the vantage point of those of us on the spectrum.

In verbal conversations, most "En-Ty" brains absorb the words they hear as only part of the context of the situation they hear them in. That context is a very complex compendium of their own sensory perceptions of the face, body, breath-patterns, vocal and other 'inflections' they perceive from the one who's speaking. From all this, and AS the words and sensory perceptions come in, they determine what is the most likely motive that one who would use such words would have for saying those words in that way in this situation here and now. THEN, having deduced the true motive behind the words being used, they determine the true or intended meaning of the person who just said the words they heard.

Let's recap: first, they take everything they've mentally and sensorially experienced/noticed/perceived from the speaker (with the actual words being only a small part of the total input); from the total received intake they then they deduce a motive for the communication; THEN they determine what the true or intended meaning of the comment was ... from the motive and perceptions of delivery they just deduced.

EnTy's do all this instantly, and most of them don't even have a clue that this is the process they use to give meaning to the words they hear. It truly is an amazing bit of mental gymnastics, exceeding the capability of a quad-core computer chip in near-instantaneous processing speed. Brains can be marvelous devices, you know.

But there is a horrific part in all this for us Spectrumites. We're mostly to COMPLETELY oblivious to all of this "extra" mental thought-processing. Not because we haven't bothered to learn it, as so many folks tell us. But because our brains aren't hard-wired to do it as theirs are. After studying this communications dissimilarity for a couple years, I can logically understand how it works, but I cannot possibly apply that knowledge in "real-time". I don't have the automatic sensor-connection between the parts of the brain that control my eyes and ears to my "thinking" section that would make all those data-bits (that don't seem at all inter-connected to my brain) somehow affect the meaning of the words I hear. In many situations, this action by EnTy's seems to completely replace the meaning of the literal words with another "thought" entirely, one in complete opposition to the stated words. I can't figure out how to do that.

Nor can any EnTy for whom this is "natural", turn the process off when they're around someone who doesn't share the ability. In fact, those who do this most strongly are highly likely to insist that they DON'T do any such thing at all. It is probable they will take great offense at the mere implication that they would. And so, they insist we've just made a statement that bears no relation we of the Spectrum can tell to any words, thoughts, or understanding we've ever had in our lives. Let alone the words we just said. It's often infuriating to both sides. What a life, eh?

LIving a Spectrumite Life in an En-Ty World

Some of my peers choose humorous ways to talk about living as a member of the Aspergers/Autism "spectrum", such as John Elder Robison's self-created title as a "Free-range Aspergian". That has a bit of whimsy, of "cuteness" to it, doesn't it? Mr. Robison and Temple Grandin (another noted Autistic/"Spectrumite") even make the point both in their books and their lecture appearances that they wouldn't want to change anything about themselves or their presence "on the spectrum". They're comfortable being who and what they are. They feel of those of us with Autism/Aspergers ... conditions? ... have also been given enough advantages over "Neuro-Typicals" that they prefer life on the spectrum. Or, as I call it, being a "Spectrumite" versus being an "En-Ty".

For me, learning about my own hardwired limitations as a Spectrumite these last couple years has been brutal. Just as brutal as living on that spectrum has been for lo these 58 years. Yes, I finally have some understanding of how and why interpersonal communications and relations for my entire life have been ... "odd". For both myself and everyone around me, as I'm very aware that I do continually cause confusion and discomfort in others. I understand why some people react so strongly, so negatively,  on just being in a room with me. Why so many attempts at simple conversations go so ... uncomfortable. In three sentences or less.

But for all those years before "understanding" attacked, I kept up an optimism that someday, somehow, I'd figure out how to blend in with most people. How to get along, have "normal" conversations at parties and professional meetings; even how to relate with people without seeing the faces of this or that person simply cringe upon seeing me for the first time, and before I've even said a word to them. Because, yes, I've always seen this happen, and yes, it has always hurt. Not everyone reacts to me with such dismay, and yes, I have managed a few friends over the years. But I've not seen my friends and acquaintances receive such reactions ever. I do.

As someone who'd been a Secondary-Education/English Lit major in college, and an acquaintance of people with Autistic/Aspergers kids, I knew of the existence of the "Spectrum". But it was out there, of course, not ... here. Then a few years back, in short succession I had both a 5-year old son and a 26 year old daughter (a grad-school  student in a Lutheran Seminary) diagnosed as "on the spectrum". For him, the diagnosis was high-functioning Autism; for her, Aspergers.

For an involved dad like myself, this was quite a jolt. As a very active parent, I set out to learn the differences, the determining factors, of being "on the spectrum" as opposed to being "normal", with my typically intense ability to focus and absorb. What did this mean in REAL terms, and ... how does one mitigate the known problems? What do you do after the diagnosis?

During those studies, with the focus and passion that (I would soon learn) those of us on that spectrum are so often capable of, and with the firm (if unappreciated!) nudge of a close friend, I came to the inevitable if startlingly uncomfortable conclusion: two of my children, my self, and my late father all existed on that same spectrum. I didn't like the conclusion one little bit. But ... I am an analysis whiz. It is one of the few things I'm hot at. And once I started looking at the possibility of my own 'existence' as a Spectrumite, I couldn't find any missing pieces. All I found was supportive evidence. Solid supportive evidence. A lot of solid, supportive evidence.

When I first mentioned this idea (of my "inclusion") during a meeting with our son's teachers and specialists they had no reaction at all. Or rather, not verbally. They just looked sideways at each other, and ... the meeting moved on. It seemed it had been obvious to them earlier in our 'relationship'. Checking in with a couple of them later ... well, yes ... they had all noticed the rather obvious link, and had even discussed it among themselves long before it had occurred to me.

Would a test be useful, I mused? (Note: I was still looking for an "out", a possibility that my conclusion was wrong.) The response was disheartening: Um ... well ... no, not really, it would mostly be a waste of time and money; I was certainly welcome to go get tested, but ... the direct answer was that while I may not look and seem to most people to be "obviously suffering" from Autism/Aspergers, to someone who works in the field ... I light up the indicator lights all over the board. Bluntly, if this is a game of tag, I'm "it".

As I noted at the beginning, both John Robison Elder and Temple Grandin are comfortable with (or actually prefer) being a Spectrumite to being an En-Ty. At the present time, I can't join them "there". Maybe someday. I've been so aware my whole life of the difficulties I have both in business and personal situations, of some interference with my ability to communicate specific meanings and ideas on a predictable, solid basis to other humans, that finding out that there really is no solution to my problem isn't ... comforting. I've struggled mightily with the loss of hope. I've have many damn rough days and nights.

I've had to realize that for all it's prowess and capabilities, my brain doesn't use language quite like any of the En-Ty's I know or work with. Not even my wife and closest friends. This limits everything I try to do to such an extent that at times I wonder why I even bother trying anything. Having learned it's a permanent hard-wiring problem, I keep looking for the equivalent of a software "patch". Some way to actually get my thoughts out "there" such that others can understand the depth and width of what I try to communicate.

I'm not having any luck. Knowing the cause hasn't provided (at least yet) any assistance at amelioration. There has been a ton of new emotional baggage to work through, not least of which is the realization that ... this is permanent. There may be no fix for my communication/interpersonal struggles.

The supposed definition of insanity is trying the same action over and over and expecting a different outcome. But all I've got left is to keep trying to improve my ability to communicate with the En-Ty world I live in, and hope that eventually I'll find a way to maybe double the percentage of accurate  'content' I manage to get across. Someday, someway, I'll maybe hit a 4% -transmission of ideas to someone. It ain't much ... but it would be better than I'm getting now. It would be ... something.

It would bring so much hope back ...

What is truly "me"?

After reading what I'd written yesterday about the growth and discovery of one's self as a 50-something, it seemed to me that I should have begun with how we are supposed to answer the basic question, what is "me". What do we find when we get there, and how do we know we've actually arrived at the right place?

I'll use the mechanism or process of learning to use my own vocal instrument. Learning to sing. I've got a marvelous teacher for re-creating the use of the vocal mechanism, as that is what she says she does. Note, this isn't re-creating the mechanism itself. Most of her students come to her expecting that, which she states right up front is an impossibility. And it is in this journey to find the proper use of the mechanism, how it really works when freed of all our expectations, controls, and fears, that we learn what our voice is.

She works from the knowledge that each individual vocal instrument has it's own inherent capabilities and possibilities, and cannot be at it's best until it is firmly grounded within it's own nature. It probably can do far more than it's owner has any clue. But before we can get a clue, we have to know what the basic voice really is.

We have all heard many other voices, and heard many comments over the years about what is "good" singing and how to do it, and we try (without often realizing it) to mimic what we like in other voices and claim it as our own sound. All of these things really lead to problems when we then try to sing as we think we should. As she puts it, the brain knows how the body works and how to make any sound it is capable of, but the mind, with all these preconceptions about what singing should sound and feel like, gets in the way.

There are several cognitive problems in how we think of and perceive our own voice. First, no matter how another voice sounds to us, it WILL NOT feel or sound (to the singer making that sound) like we think it would. So if we mimic the way it "should" sound to our own ears or "should" feel in our own body, we make a very different sound instead of what we intended to. You see, a well-produced voice, especially as the pitch rises, starts to sound thin to the singer making the sound. A good sound to hear isn't big and grand inside the singer, but OUTSIDE, and if you make it sound big "inside" yourself, it is a muffled, mushy, and less pleasant sound for anyone listening to you.

Second, even if we could copy the outward, "heard" sound of another voice, that choice in and of itself locks a great deal of the unique parts and capabilities of our own voice out of possibility. It's a choice to be smaller and lesser than we could be, not greater. And besides, if all we are is a copy of someone else, why not just play them on an iphone?

And the very important third problem: We don't have a choice as to what our instrument is. Period! Any more than we can choose to be eight foot tall or jump the Alps in a single bound. The first task, in learning to sing properly, is to find out what our own instrument naturally is as we develop the fullest capabilities of that particular instrument. And through that process, we learn the choices that can wisely be made to utilize that instrument in ways that we would find worthwhile, interesting, and rewarding. And that perhaps, we can become passionate about doing.

So the first part of the journey ... and a continual companion along the way ... is an examination of all the tensions and bobbles and kinks in how *I* sing at this moment. All the extraneous "fluff" that isn't actually necessary or useful for making a clean, naturally-"me" sound. Puzzle out the source for each and every bobble, and then imagine the replacement habit or thought that is the appropriate practice or thought for your voice. Then practice incorporating it as you lose the previous glitch.

Guaranteed, you will make what (to you) are the weirdest sounds you've ever made. It will seem to you to be the most gawdafful caterwauling you've ever done. And it will take time to come to grips with the new sounds as really "your" sound. Also guaranteed, you'll be sure NO ONE would ever want to hear this awful new muck you are producing as "singing".

The weirdest part of the whole thing? Most everyone around you will start telling you that your sound, your voice, is clearer, more open, and vastly more interesting than it ever has been. It's more "you" than you've ever been before to everyone around you. And ... your new voice can stand up and do tricks for you that your old voice could never even try. It becomes ... more ... fun ... and it leads you to places that will surprise but delight you.

And this is different from learning to really be yourself as a human ... how? It was quite a revelation to me to find that the most amazing and useful training on how to become a more complete and unique human was what I learned from my voice teacher!

Jackie Dickey, and hubbie and fellow trainer Kevin Skiles, thank you!

It's a Beautiful Day

It really is a beautiful day outside, today. Sunny with some fleecy clouds, temperatures in the upper 50's (f.), with only a slight breeze. The next couple days are supposed to get cloudy and colder with a possibility of snow! Changes can occur so fast this time of year.

The one constant thread in my "thinking" life is that I must learn faster. There is so much I need to learn well enough to use to advance my career as an artist and teacher. There are so many unanswered questions every where I turn for information. There is great discourse as to the programs and habits I need to learn!

Still, I love finding new things and place and people to grow by. This has become my current addiction. Not, overall, a bad thing, perhaps?