...and it was a triumph; an absolute triumph. The performance was absolutely splendid, the music sublime (how could the compositions of Schubert and Mozart be anything but?) and the reactions of the audience a healthy mixture of joy and undisguised awe.
Personally I give my own performance a rating of seven out of ten. I tried my best of course (and perhaps more importantly I got up on the stage and actually went through with it, despite my gut screaming at me to do the contrary), which counts for a lot. But while I was quite pleased with my singing overall, I made several silly mistakes. And to make it worse whilst in the middle of two complicated sections in two separate movements, I sneezed.
So seven out of ten. But that's not bad, is it? On the whole, as I said, I was quite pleased with myself and ended the night, in-spite of aching limbs and a mind so tired it could barely function, feeling utterly jubilant; exhilarated and overwhelmed and very privileged at having had the chance to play a part - a small part but a part nonetheless - in something so unbelievably wonderful. Being a member of a choir is a splendid thing, indeed.
On a practical note, however, two things became apparent.
Thing One.
I need a better pair of boots/shoes, By the end of the show, despite brief periods of respite as we sat during solos, the soles of my feet were throbbing fiercely. For concerts, my regular every-day black boots are less than useless. Footwear specially designed to aid people having to stand still for long periods of time is required, and by golly; I shall have it.
Thing Two.
To aid in thing one and for reasons of space, I really, really need to lose some weight. Seriously.
...Anyway, more on everything later.
Alice. x
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