I see in singing – the Everything.
To take in the air as your breath – the same air that has heard the dying sobs of millions of Jews in Auschwitz. The same air that has carried a billion diseases to their hosts. The same air that chokes everyday from all the dust and diesel spluttering out of the global capitalist machine.
To take that poisoned air into your body, and to transmute it – to pour it back out into the world as a thing of beauty. To take the dank air – all vibrating with viciousness and suffering – and reshape it into a vessel for emotions like inspiration, vitality, and love.
To be the creator who redeems the tarnished air – that is the true magic.
That is the rhetoric of all real men – and the want of all strong women – to turn lead into gold.
This is the secret of alchemy – the crux of all true arts – the act of taking a portion of the chaos that surrounds us and making it into something cosmic.
This secret reveals itself to me through singing – and through knowing it I gain insight into the mystery of life itself.
To be nothing – to be dealt life’s most useless hand – to be bullied, bruised, and bashed – to be reminded constantly of your weakness – to be assured that there is no substance behind hope.
To overcome this.
To take the foul hand we’ve been dealt – the foul hand we’ve dealt ourselves – and play it well.
Play it without fear of loss.
To play big.
To take the bad air and convert it into good times.
That is the substance of the worlds most almighty word – grace.
That is the nature of singing.