City of love and doubt

Gdansk is a beautiful city. I've visited my familie there every year for at least a week since I was two years old.

In those 27 years, the city has grown from a typical grey and gloomy socialist town into a colorful, vibrant and modern metropolis. We sort of grew up together.

The latest visit was filled with strolling around, visiting museums, making a boatride, shopping, going to the movies and eating a restaurants. (Tips: go to Sopot to take a walk on the pier and have dinner at U Dzika (pierogi) or Primitive (stekosaurus) - both on Piwna street in Gdansk's old town)

I loved the Nightwish-cappuccino they make at 'Mon Balzac', and really want a license plate with my name on it, too.

There still was a gloomy part about the visit, though. As a kid, I didn't notice, but as a grown up, I can't help but feel the distance between me and my Polish grandmother and uncle. They still seem to live in the Gdansk of 1982, while the rest of us are in the Gdansk of 2009.

That, combined with my almost non-existent Polish language skills, makes it difficult to really keep in touch. No matter how many miles we flew to see them, we're still miles apart.

Stage fright's a bastard

Stage fright really is a sneaky little bastard.

In a couple of days, my band Beyond Violet is supposed to go on stage for the first time. There's just on little problem: my vocal chords decided they weren't up for it and quit working.

I've had almost no voice for over a week now, and it's starting to get on my nerves pretty bad.
It seems stress can impact your body in many ways, and in my case, this time it felt like messing things up for me.

Having no voice sucks for a couple of reasons.
1. I can't sing. It isn't until you can't sing that you realize how much you do sing all day long.
2. I can't talk. I'm a journalist for cryin' out loud.
3. Freaking out over not being able to sing with an important gig coming up, makes my throat tense up even more. Which can't be good...
4. People can't seem to leave me alone. I tell them I can't talk, but almost every single person that calls is like "Oh right, well could you just tell me about this one thing blablabla"

Which is why stage fright is such a sneaky bastard. It's the deadliest link in this vicious cycle I'm trapped in. Being nervous is bad for the voice, it can make you loose your voice, and when you've gone hoarse, you get even more nervous, which doesn't help getting better.

The advice I get from fellow musicians is to not sing, talk or even whisper, eat loads of honey, drink tea and most of all to chill out. It just so happens that I can do all of the above, but the chilling out part... well, let's just say this is a real test of character for me.

Picture: Beyond Violet by Fabio Valiante