As it turns out, one of my favorite songs isn't sung by two people at all, it's sung instead by a seriously curious lady called Happy Rhodes. She basically feels like haunting nice people with ghosts of Annie Lennox and Tori Amos, but for reasons all but melancholly, I am truly drawn to her performances. Not just because her split personality singing delivers two for the price for one, but because I can't get enough of what she can do with her voice. Not what she can DO as if weird opera people screaming and twisting and doing all kinds of vocal acrobatics that make no art at all, just showing off.. She sings SO lovely. You can believe upon the first notes you hear come from her she really likes to do it.
I cannot comprehend music, almost to no extend, probably because I can't even hear it properly and cannot sing to save a mayfly, but when I am not using it as a motivation for an active day dream, a scene I need pictured to great detail in order to be able to paint it - that's exactly what I do: I relate it to my kind of art. Some of it rationally and some of it simply with the cavern of my chest where the compassion lives. I can paint and draw and sketch and design and illustrate, even sculpt or plan, and when i'm not doing it for work or training, I am doing it because I love it. That's how I think singers like this lady exists with her talent: she trains and she performs but mainly I think she loves and plays and lives with it. Nothing pompous, nothing in kitch mini skirts with fake boobs and hysterical stadium audiences... Just... The beautiful songs. The not-exactly-right music. The very much right music.
