The Feast of Lights ended last night. I don't know if it will be my last. The last time I thought I'd never be in the Feast of Lights again, I was wrong. It seems fitting that this second Final Feast is even less certain to be Final at all. Things were different this time. I enjoyed myself and I noticed things were different, but it seemed that things were right, too. There was more sorry and heartbreak this year. But that made the joy deeper and richer when I sought for it. I think I could have done more of that, though.

The first time the Feast ended for me in 1999, I cried afterwards. I felt the emptiness immediately. I was four months from graduating from college and seeing my life change forever. That last night of Feast was a herald of terrible and fantastic things to come. I remember telling a friend, we'll call her Kat (that's what I called her then, too), about that and finding comfort in her friendship and understanding.

This time around, there isn't emptiness. There is loneliness, but that has nothing at all to do with the Feast except in maybe not seeing certain friends again for a while.  There is peace and that has everything to do with the Feast, but nothing at all at the same time.  The peace comes from some where else and the Feast is it's gateway into me.  But the peace is mingled now with the loneliness and both are richer and deeper and full of a texture I can not easily describe.

My year has been blessed and life is good.  But things are not as I would have them and for that, I feel lonely, of all things to feel.  But there is little to be done today, and so I feel at peace knowing that things are as they are.  They will change when they will and I will write my role in that. For now, there is joy to be found in the experience of an uneasy peace.

Tonight went really well aside from one thing.  At first, I thought I was just being an ass.  After some reflection and putting things into perspective (I felt way too badly about maybe being an ass after rehearsal), I've realized that I wasn't really at rehearsal tonight.  I walked when I was supposed to and sang when I was supposed to, but didn't dive into the thing at all.  What a waste.

I have three more rehearsals to calm down just a bit and get my head into this thing.  On the one hand, I have music that clearly needs to be memorized.  On the other hand, I'm participating in something that is rich with meaning and significance.  I don't want to get to the end and find out I missed out because I hadn't let myself get swept away by it all. I may not find much depth, but I'd rather it not be because I didn't leave myself open to the possibility.

If you're not sure if you want to spend money on a ticket for Feast, this is a good way to find out if you like the music or not.

Stop by and say hello afterwards if you show up.

I'm a bass.  I sing bass II, which is the lower.  I can sing and make you feel it in your stomach.

Except that I can't.  Not anymore.  For the last three weeks, I've been trying to reach the low notes that used to be my bread and butter.  They just aren't there.  I thought that maybe I needed to get back into the swing of it, but it usually doesn't take a month to do that.  I've started learning both bass parts, just in case I find that I can contribute more by singing the higher part in the end.

This makes me a bit sad.  Spending time in the basement like that was one of the highlights of singing.  What's more is that this year's Feast has more low bass parts just waiting for me than ever before.  This is not the year I want to start turning baritone (no offense to the true baritones out there).

So I'll be spending more time singing low in the shower every morning since the notes are easier to reach then.  I'll be drinking more hot tea no matter how hot it gets outside.  Maybe I can retrain myself to reach down there and bring out that dark, resonant sound again.

In the meantime, I'm learning to do a good job of making it look like I'm reaching the notes. :|