Because it's all long since over now

[kyrasantae]

I guess it's safe to post this, the letter I enclosed with my NW demo. It ended up being 4 pages handwritten. (It was originally typed, of course.)

Tuuli – The wind. The wind is an artist. Dancing in grassy fields. Songs in rustling leaves. Paintings in desert sands. In the raw, the wind can be powerful, even destructive. Wind can be as gentle as a refreshing breeze, yet can be as strong as a hurricane. But that intensity can be harnessed and put to good use. The wind never ceases its work for any reason; it never tires; it is never exhausted.

Mustasydän – Black-heart. Black – the colour of my hair and the colour of my heart, tainted with the pain of death and resurrection. There was once an end of all hope, an end of all innocence; and in rebirth I was made into the wind. Death renewed my senses, opening my eyes to the world.

But there was one thing that never died. And that one thing was music.

Nimeäni on Tuuli Mustasydän. Tämä on minun tarinani. [My name is Tuuli Mustasydän. This is my story.]

Born two decades ago, the first dream I ever had was to be a pianist. I enrolled in classical piano lessons at the age of four, and through my eleven years of study I became quite accomplished in my hometown, achieving major awards at music festivals and performing at special events. I played in a classical piano trio ensemble for three years, competing at the provincial level. Everything was going perfectly according to plan.

Then, suddenly, my world was torn from under me. I locked my dream away, to keep it safe while I walked the desert landscape of depression. Though the dream was no longer with me, the spirit of music kept me alive, carrying me when hope of rescue had died.

I ceased to play the piano for the sake of classical repertoire. I dabbled in playing popular songs by ear, but was frustrated by the lack of portability of the piano format. So I took to choral singing. Consequently I have sung as an alto for three years now, the most recent two as a member of a 130-person chorus.

I, still searching for a way out of this dark night of the soul, turned to study in engineering. Without a single dollar to my name, I turned my back on my dream of the arts to pursue something that would make me money in the future; I threw away the key I had to my locked dream and looked to science for happiness. The happiness never came.

Until this past January, when your Sleeping Sun became my oasis in the desert. In it I heard a reflection of myself; I heard my own voice. This was the key to my dream, and you gave it back to me. I, having exhausted all other options, unlocked the dream once more.

I no longer wish to be a pianist but to become a vocalist; I wish to be more than just another voice in a chorus. I was born to be a performer, as I had been with the piano. I believe that what keeps me from being as good as a trained voice is performance experience, for practicing alone can only take me so far. Yet I cannot work alone. It is only through partnership and togetherness that I can grow in my own experience.

Since then I have waited for this very moment. I chase my dream through you, beside you, with you; for I am indebted to you for bringing me out of the darkness and back to my senses.

Thus I offer you myself to take.

I believe that my passion for the art will take me to places and heights that I never thought to imagine. I believe that my dedication will reveal to me new skills that I never thought I was capable of having. I believe that my devotion will give to you everything you seek and ask for in me.

Make me a part of you. In doing so you will shape me into what I have the potential to be, and to that end, this artist leaves her spirit in your hands. You are my inspiration; I can be yours. Share with me all you have to give and I shall give to you all I have to offer. Take me with you, and together we shall be reborn from the ashes: a phoenix, the same firebird as that which passed away, yet different. New life from old and renewed life from new.

[signed]


Once I slumbered to hide it all
Beneath the rainbows of paradise
I watched the gates to Eden close
Locking me out in sin.

The sandtimer of history turns again
One life, one breath, one river of time
Every turn a new witness to hope
Every turn a new breath of life

Comments

[deganedward.livejournal.com]

Good for you for going for that. That took a lot of courage...beautiful letter.

[kyrasantae.livejournal.com]

It ended up being more of a futile show of drama, anyway.

I do not stand up to many of the other candidates that I've heard, but I had started the project and so I had to finish it.

It brought me through so many changes in myself, I wrote a shory essay about that too, but it's only in spoken form at the end of one of my demo disks. When we get a chance to meet up, maybe you can listen to it :)

[deganedward.livejournal.com]

cool!