Prelude

Ah, there we are. Welcome to the other side! Now, where I will be by the time this goes out is an imprecise guess at best. According to this draft itinerary, we ought to be on the way to the boys' accommodation, arriving in a further hour and a half. Trying to predict my mental and emotional frame is difficult at this point, as there are so many factors at play: being in a confined space in the immediate vicinty of both choristers and the other Scholars exeunt (all of whom I haven't seen all together sing the middle of July all together), after many tedious hours travelling. I'll probably be hungry, thirsty, in need of a stiff drink... But who am I to focus on possible detractions? Oh yes, me...

But this is the beginning of a great week. A week away! Singing the same old stuff in a different Shed (substantial IV/P in the north side, red brick style church. Lots of pictures to follow) will be pretty good, he says in hope. I'm actually almost completely certain everything will be excellent, EXCEPT FOR THE PRICE OF ALCOHOL which is legendarily high. We'll have to see what it's really like when we get there, but I think that the £120 I have for Kronor at time of writing won't be quite enough.

This is the last hurrah I will have as a Scholar in the choir of the Cathedral of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Truro. It is itself a prelude to Lay-Vicarship, a more permanent tenure in this Cathedral. I remember when the offer was made, very early in the year... I think shock was the first emotion I managed to successfully express.

I suppose the Lay-Vicarship is a prelude itself too, because I have already thought about moving. It's sad in a way that one has to plan so far ahead in order to do anything (train fare hikes notwithstanding), but I'm looking to the States for post-graduate study. I've always said I don't want to go through London, and having been around just Ealing for a few days can say that given the choice, I don't want to even now. The size, the roads, the brain-meltingly expensive public transport, the price of EVERYTHING for that matter... Is it really worth it? For me?

America's a big and ambitious move, but I have always had the ambition to carry me places. To Norwich, where I bucked the trend of autistic students and moved out to a private rent; in fact, even having the ambition to move out (and stay moved out) in the first place! To Truro, where a successful audition landed me the Lay-Vicarship two years later. To play in organ recitals, to sing solo in front of audiences unfamiliar repertoire with a voice not originally intended for, and to perform a Cello Suite on the Tenor Banjo.

So, here's to the future. I know it's quite unlike me to look forward to things, but cogs have been moving in positive directions really, even if I have become intimately familiar with my limitations... But unless you push, you'll never know. And really, I can't stand being bored. Some people are happy to accept their limitations and live below their means. I'm not quite advocating a Tyler Durden style temple of destruction and fight anonymous strangers, but it's better than sitting on your arse, ain't it?

Don't forget to keep tuning in!