Flag Burning
Singing comes naturally to me. Whether in the shower or the kitchen, at nighttime studying, with music or no music, I sing. A habit, if you will, that I cannot help. Often times I find myself alone in my room with my music turned up and my eyes closed, and with my face moving with the rhythm and the feeling of the music, I sing to my little hearts content. At that moment, nothing else matters because I am so entranced by the music that not a thought goes through my mind, other than how I feel and how I sound as I sing. Sometimes I don't even realize that I am singing. I cannot help but wonder where all this passion comes from. How is it that I became possessed by singing and music? When I was talking to my mom just recently, I was telling her how my roommate tells me to shut up when I sing. "I can't help it", I said, "it's natural. Sometimes I don't even realize that I'm singing". My mom went on to tell me that when she was a little girl, her mother used to sing around the house all the time. She would sing to wake my mom and my aunt up, as well as to put them to bed. She would sing in the kitchen while she was cooking or while she was in the living room cleaning. I also just found out that
When I get in these moods is when I always wonder why I love to sing, which did not dawn on me until this year either. Catherine can play just about anything you give her. My first memories of singing, besides the lullabies my mother would sing to us every night and morning, goes back to when I was a little girl. As I played my flute, I let the music take over me, so that my body would move in a wavelike swaying motion. My senior year when I sang "That Don't Impress Me Much" by Shania Twain, it was very convenient that I lost my voice the day I had to perform. " Most times I would either be sarcastically rude to them, "it's called classical music, ever heard of it?," or I would just ignore them. We've been a music-enriched family ever since I can remember. At my first tryouts in high school for The Wiz, I was scared and nervous as I saw the directors out in the middle of the auditorium. But, coming from years of theatre, I know that the show must go on. The worst thing right now about my singing is that my roommate can't stand it. Listening to Mozart or Bach, is something that I enjoy. I don't understand why she hates it, but this is what she tells me, "A song is meant to be heard, not to be sung with. My best friend Valerie and I sang an Italian lullaby called "Stella Stalina". Hearing the crowd go wild for me, I was engulfed in a trance of clapping hands and cheering voices.
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Acceptance Essays
