sing chant pray

i am stuck with this painting.  painter's block? 

i need canvases--bigger ones... 

i've boxed myself into this small space on the image, the place where i am to render the throat chakra, Vishuddha.  coincidence?  Vishuddha governs vibration--sound.  it influences communication.  it names the visions that are brought down to it from the third eye, Ajna, in the process of Manifestation.  i don't know how to express what it is i envision.  there is gorgeous turquoise hue, but no form, no shape.

during a stressful time last year, i developed eczema on the skin of my throat.  i could not give voice to my thoughts.  there were ideas i was intuiting, but i was having great difficulty voicing them.  i was unsatisfied, i was stretched beyond the limitations of my energy.

these days, i feel like my voice is much stronger.  i sing more, even up on stage, and i am always amazed at the crowd that gathers to listen and watch, the applause that ensues afterwards.  i think my secret dream is to become a singer, to drop everything and start writing songs, join a band--or maybe just drift from open mic night to open mic night as a solo show.  i love to sing.  i want to develop my tool so that i can sing the notes that my soul wants to express.

i believe yoga practice--pranayama, specifically--has improved my singing and speaking skills.  breath practice and asana has strengthened my lungs, loosened the intercostals and the scalenes which had become so weak and tight from enduring severe asthma as a child.  now i can swim laps forever, control my diaphragm and use my breath to bring me into deep relaxation and sleep.  my favorite part of my practice is to chant OM SHANTI before and after asana--i feel like i am connected to divinity.

i use my voice, my words.  i write, i talk.  i say things people don't often like to hear.  i speak up and i speak my mind.  when i am emotionally charged, there is still a lag-time between the moment i have a thought and my ability to vocalize it.  but i am no longer afraid to have a voice.

anorexia was once my voice.  i spoke with my emaciated body.  i still speak with my body today, and it's not just body language.  i am a terrible liar, often because my body cannot lie--it is adept at communication since it has had to compensate for my voice for most of my life.

maybe after a night of singing at the karaoke bar, i'll be able to make the next move on my painting.  for now, i'll dive into deep blues...