I drew this cartoon in February of this year. At the time I was working as a cover at Lyric Opera of Chicago in their wild production of Elektra (there was a waterfall of blood down the palace staircase at the end, it was a doozy) and coincidentally freezing my rear end off in the coldest winter this California girl had ever experienced. Sometimes it really does feel like this with these teeny little instruments in our throats — all traditional musicians use their bodies to play the instrument — but we are the only musicians who house our instruments in our bodies. Figuring out how to trudge through the snow and in and out of buildings with steam heat without getting sick or drying out has been something I’ve been slowly figuring out, and my little Pansy is growing ever-more tolerant. Everyone has different levels of sensitivity and over time you learn what your voice does and does not like. There are no great mysteries to mine: drink water, get sleep, don’t drag your voice down with a bunch of unsupported valley girl speech, and take care not to poke the reflux bear. Sexy stuff, this singing business.
