Out There

Out There

I enjoy watching YouTube episodes of the television show, “The Voice.” I wasn’t exactly sure why, although I have thought a lot about it. Aside from a few guitar lessons in seventh grade. (three), I don’t even consider myself musical. I have one note; I sing it loud and soft.

I especially enjoy “The Kids Voice,” recorded in different countries; teenage contestants mostly, singing their hearts out in English to American pop music, their parents and families cheering and crying from the sound proof observation room. The singers all seem so happy about the whole thing. Expressing. Putting themselves out there, with the whole world watching.

I also enjoy my Thursday night writing group. We meet to listen to each other’s work, and I often find myself thinking about it during the week, especially while driving in what some would considered down time. For me, the group is a little like “The Voice,” with people eager to share what they’ve written, pieces of their lives, experiences all so different. Putting themselves out there, their words sometimes like notes… sentences like chords; a good piece just like a song.

Apparently, we must all share the desire, to express; whether it’s singing, ….or playing an instrument, or just hitting a golf ball. Some even do it with their work; we look for our own way – to define ourselves. It could be writing. But I wish I could sing.

I watched a recording of Ed Sheeran playing guitar and singing his song, “Photograph,” and wondered how glorious he must feel; to be able to express like that – out there.

It hurt. And I’m kicking myself. Why didn’t I stay with those guitar lessons?

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