There are several graduating seniors in the conservatory studio this semester. One of the toughest aspects of being in your final year is the showcase.

Everybody gets a 90-second feature along with various and sundry other performance tasks to put together a cohesive show that they can present to industry folk at the end of the semester.

Tens of creative, ambitious musical theater performers in one room hoping they’ll be noticed by favorable casting decision makers based on their performance of half of “Shy” from Once Upon a Mattress while peers and sundry offer their various artistic opinions. What stress could possibly ensue?

Number one, Peers and Sundry is a great name for something. Probably a brunch restaurant.

Number two, that cut of “Shy” worked really well for one of my seniors a couple years ago. So there is that.

All that to say is it gets really easy to get tornadoed up in the crazy frenzy.

So I’ve been asking seniors to have a quick visit with somebody very special. In their case, I asked them to get a quick perspective from 35-year-old them.

It’s wonderful to see how quickly some of them can hear from their older selves. I really do believe that on some sort of quantum physics level that I don’t understand, we do have access to ourselves along our complete timeline.

But just that little thought exercise where they check in with themselves about 17 years down the road is a wonderful shoulder melter and load lifter.

I’ve been using this tool on myself lately.

When bedtime’s taking longer than I think it should and I have so much WORK to scurry downstairs and finish up, my sixty-year-old self reminds me to enjoy this super sweet and precious time.

When I look at my Google Tasks and Bullet Journal and 15 sticky notes with all the unfinished open loops, and feel objectively overwhelmed, older me tells me it’s it’s still helpful to accomplish two tasks, even if I can’t accomplish 25.

And when I start to get paralyzed on play revisions and reach for dopamine distractors, older me it reminds me I’ve got a lot of help around me, smart people who can encourage me. If I just keep taking steps with good tools, I’ll make something decent.

Older me is super low drama, so sometimes it’s annoying how wise he is. But I’m super grateful for him. He brings me back down to earth regularly.

So I encourage you to reach out to a version of you who’s traveled down the road a little further ahead. And as long as we’re in these miraculous bodies and breathing, there’s always a phase of us we can consult.

I’d love to know if you got any good advice. Feel free to email me back and let me know if you heard anything good from you.

One thing I do know for sure is there is only one you, and somebody would love to hear this story only you can sing.

Love much,

Dan

PS If you’re going to be in London in early August, go ahead and get your tickets for my new play with music Train to Cleveland with John Ruskin, which is going to be happening at the Camden Fringe Festival at Circle and Star Theatre in Hampstead. β€‹

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PPS And remember to check out The Voice Map, the systems level framework that will take you from confusion to clarity and into a deep understanding of how the systems of your voice work together:

  • body
  • breath
  • phonation
  • registration
  • resonance
  • articulation
  • and artistry

πŸ—ΊοΈ a compass and a guide you can carry with you throughout your singing life, simple in-depth videos, and open comments and questions beneath every module so you can ask your questions as you explore.

Check it out here.​

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