An actress is born

Well, it has been a while since I wrote last. I got involved in auditions for Genesis. Doing well, getting great people.

So the Maiden. The new moon, the beginning of the circle of the year, Imbolc.

Singing.
Me singing. So there I was red, yellow, pink, and green. Day after fucking day. Over and over. He was relentless my father. Relentless. Not only was he an overlord in the house but he became my worst nightmare when it came to singing.
We practiced endlessly. I screw up, I got hit, I got insulted. It went on for days and days. I remember my mother saying that he should leave me alone. She never did more than suggest. On we went. Eventually I got angry, stubborn and mean too. I stopped singing. He put on the record and I just sat there. I knew I was a disappointment to him, I knew he wanted me to be perfect but I could not do it. I would not do it. He asked me to sing once more…to practice the same damn song again and I belted out NO NO NO!!! I would not.
That was it. He lost his cookies. I am one of the most stubborn people in the world and would rather die than give up so he was up against a demon. I did not relent. He hit, screamed, threw my stuff…I did not sing.
He spoke to me close to my face, breath stinking of tobacco and coffee, through his stained teeth. He threatened. I did not sing.
I did not sing for him ever again. From that moment on my singing became MY fucking singing and not his. I kept it a secret. I sang only when he was not home. Sometimes my mother told him I was singing, trying to bring me out. I would stop for days lest he catch me. I began not to sing in front of her either. But the voice and the music inside of me used to well up and sting my throat and I would hum. Sometimes I would sing when I was in the bathroom, before I realized they could hear me.
Then I figured it out. IF I sang but pretended to be someone else that was OK…!!!

So, on went the Disney records and I became Peter Pan, Wendy, Cinderella, Snow White. They all sang! I could be them for days and days and sing my little loud stubborn heart out.
So I did. I became these characters. I walked like them, talked like them and sang like them. I memorized every word they sang and would only be addressed by their names.
I branched out and became other characters like Cindy Bear, Olive Oil, Betty Boop. Even if they did not sing.
I have pictures of myself dressed up like Cindy Bear. I am holding a teacup and pretending to be her while my mother snarls at me. Nice shot.

So now, I could sing! Unfettered and un-judged by my father or anyone else. I was a character and the character sang. Mary disappeared in the character. I lived my life thinking like Cinderella and the rest. My whole existence was that. I have many memories here of my imaginary lives. I remember I would go so far as to describe their bed and clothes to myself, over and over.
So an actress is born in order to allow the singer to sing.
Interesting.