When I sing, I close my eyes. If I see a feather, everything is fine. Without this image in my mind, the sound is not 'truthful' enough, and I must begin again. I have to.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I close my eyes when I sing so I can feel the song better.
My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.
When I sing I have a lot of visions. Like what's happening now in my life.
I keep my eyes closed a lot when I'm singing because sometimes it's distracting to see people.
I don't want anything to get in the way of me and my singing. I want my mind as clear as possible.
When I sing, I have a sense of peace, I feel like my brain turns off, and I become the core person of who I am - the essence of me. I feel connected to whatever is out there. It's almost like I leave my body and get to watch.
If I can't get a mental image from the song, I won't sing it.
Singing is a form of meditation... apparently the only one that I have command over.
I feel like you come in under a cloak of someone else's skin for a while, but then you can shrug it off - you have to find your own voice, if you want to keep doing it. That became a really conscious thing for me.
When I sing, I go somewhere else. Every time after I sing, I'll ask, 'Did I do OK?' Because I feel like it's like my soul squeezing out of my vocal chords. I don't sit there and think about 'I'm gonna do this next...' I just sing. I sing from my heart, and my heart's got a little lonesome in it.
No opposing quotes found.