#cantabella

[andrew-excelleen]

【Pick up!】おすすめドレス～ロイヤルプリンセス カンタベッラ編～

[paravillintiniay]

Playing through fire emblem awakening for the millionth time because of @cantabellla. Thanks a fucking lot now I'm gonna start gushing over all these characters again.

[fdiana]

Why I Sing - Cantabella

[fdiana]

Reflections on WCG

I wasn't too enthused to step into the city of Cincinnati on Tuesday night. The weather felt like someone had microwaved a wet sock and put it over the entire state, suffocating us in our own breath and pollution. Even walking into my hotel room was a nightmare (literally, because the Hilton was haunted). The food at next morning's breakfast disappointed too: I was sure this was going to be a mediocre trip, one that I couldn't wait to come home from.

But now as I sit at my laptop finally home, I realize I didn't want to leave (even though I went wi-fi free for about a week!) The trip made me realize how truly passionate I am about music, and more specifically, about singing and choir. It has always been a hobby of mine, but it wasn't until this week that I discovered that singing in choir wasn't a hobby any more -- it is my identity. I joined choir when I was 9, unknowingly stepping into the one thing that would remain constant in my life for the next 7 years. It would come to shape my character and determine my identity. It would come to steep me in culture from all over the world: from Finland, to China, Venezuela, Turkey, Latvia, South Africa, and many more. It would come to teach me a certain level of emotional understanding -- how to express tenderness, inspire passion, reveal longing.

And although some people regard music as a trivial side-job, a disposable amenity, for me and many other people, it's life changing.

I recently discovered that my choir director had the opportunity to come to the US as an immigrant because she had been chosen to sing in a choir. She has lived in the US ever since, and now dedicates her life to the thing that changed it: music. She uses music to touch the rest of us poor souls; she paints a picture of intonation, writes a story of vowels, and sculpts musical dreams with her hands. I find pleasure in the subtle reactions of the audience, like their smiles and their tears. Those nuances mean more to me than any applause.

I think more importantly, however, music changes the musician's heart. For us 30 members of choir, we are more than touched -- we are reborn. We suffer in the dissonance and revel in the resolution. We sustain our voices as if they are more precious than our own lives. And in the brief, sweet silence proceeding every finished song, every final note, before the hands of any listener come together in applause, we are reborn again. That silence is the bridge between our utopia of song and reality. Then applause severs the tie and dissolves the performance away into a memory, like some long lost dream.

This upcoming year marks the first semester of 8 years in which I won't be returning to choir. If I don't re-enroll in the spring, a part of me permanently dies. Let's hope I'll be reborn again, in time for our Korea tour next summer.