is familiar with this common dilemma: he (or she, of course) wants to hit a new note beyond his range. He sucks in all the air he may need, but cannot hit the note. Why? Because in his mind he has condemned himself, he says it is too hard and from that thought he is doomed.
His lungs, hearing this thought, are unwilling to dispel the air necessary to produce the new pitch. They know it is futile to blow the note if the mind will not back this effort with some elegant air of strength.
As a result: a hiccup in the performance; a vacuum of sound.
Lovely evening date, charmed by you I hiccuped for more. Now I am catching my breath. I wish I knew for whom I will ever sing, not to flatter, but to charm. This last performance makes me ashamed, and this blog becomes an act, an air of elegance, but the substance beneath it lies doubtful . . .
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Bark