Just Breathe
My breath has been taken away by the long anticipated kiss and by the excruciatingly true critique of my work. It evaporated both at the realization of betrayal by a lover and at my first sight of Lake Cuomo as the train rounded the bend in the Italian Alps. Despite leaving me on occasion, I appreciate that my ability to breathe deeply has been a loyal friend. Roland Heinrichs was my first formal teacher of breathing. The South High choir director hailed the diaphragm as the source of all sounds beautiful. My singing never landed me a solo, so I
