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Running away

Wednesday, March 30th, 2011

I have had a revelation. Here’s a snippet from my journal last night.

I think I’ve been running away from music. From practicing and from applying and from trying and from failing. And that’s just it. I’m afraid of failing. Afraid of writing something and putting myself out there and being rejected. But I’m tired of feeling unfulfilled in music. I want to fulfill the dream I have had inside me for too long. I want to write and record and put it out there.

For years, I have had one recurring dream, one vision, one aspiration. I would love to be a singer/songwriter. In my large tote filled with journals, I found scraps of paper that reminded me of this. Stacks of notebook paper filled with random phrases, verses, crossed out lines, and attempt after attempt to create the perfect song. Some were completed, and some were still thoughts in process. Reading through them, most were pretty pathetic and I will shove them back in the bottom of the bin. Some were not so bad. Regardless of the quality, it reminded me of how long I’ve had this dream bottled inside me.

I have managed to carry a few from those scraps of inspiration to completed, recorded projects. Working with a guitarist friend years ago, I was able to put music to a few of these attempts. Standing in front of the microphone, putting melody to those words that I had written was one of the coolest feelings of accomplishment that I’ve ever had. And I have a CD to show for that hard work.

In the years that followed, I unfortunately lost some of the momentum. For good reason, as I spent three years working with the African Children’s Choir and pursuing other dreams. Keeping up with 25 kiddos doesn’t leave you much time or energy to pursue songwriting. Yet, the dream remained. I jotted down a few lyrics here and there in my journals, but was never able to emerge with a completed product. I remember one particular host uncle who was also a musician and had dabbled in songwriting himself. I confessed my dream, and he was so encouraging. He asked if he could pray for me, and I gratefully accepted. He prayed for my songwriting, that I could write inspired songs that would speak to people. He also prayed for my future husband. I’m glad that one was answered. I’ve grown frustrated that the first hasn’t been answered yet, but then I remind myself that it might still be a work in progress.

So, here I sit today, still with this slightly unfulfilled dream. I’ve realized that it’s not going to achieve itself. Only through my efforts will it happen. Through continuing to pick up that guitar and practice even when I don’t feel like it. To write whatever is on my mind, even if it’s not so good. (I read last night that to write good songs, you have to get the bad ones out of the way.)

Some days I do struggle with writer’s block, and feel that there’s a well of songs in me with no way to get out. I’m trying to find different ways to push through this. Any creative suggestions?

I’ve also found that one of my problems is that I haven’t spent enough time listening to music that inspires me. Largely due to the fact that I’m cheap, I don’t spend enough money on new albums. I’ve decided I need to budget enough money to allow me a new album every month. It’s amazing how listening to someone else’s creative efforts is enough to push me toward my own. Here’s an example of something that inspired me lately.

I hope I can stop running away and try to embrace this dream.

Derek Webb

Saturday, March 12th, 2011

Drew wanted to surprise me with an outing this past Friday night, but I guessed what it was in two seconds.

With his typical sly grin, Drew asked if I had anything planned for Friday. I responded no, and he said, “I think I’ll surprise you.” His eye twinkled in his devious little way.

Without skipping a beat, I responded, “Derek Webb in Jacksonville?”

“Damnit!” The twinkle disappeared.

He teased me that he wasn’t going to take me since I had ruined the surprise, but I begged and gave him the puppy dog eyes and he bought tickets anyway. (I don’t think the puppy dog eyes had anything to do with him buying tickets. I’ve tried, and he’s pretty much immune. Darn.)

A little after five last night, we were on the interstate heading to Jax. We were going to be a little late, but there were two opening acts, so we weren’t too concerned. All was going great and we were making good time until we hit construction about five minutes from our destination. SO frustrating. Our five minutes turned into about thirty. Our plans on being a little late turned into an hour late. Luckily, we didn’t miss much. I think Derek was on his first or second song, so we caught most of it.

I’ve been a fan of Derek Webb for about fourteen years. I began listening to him back in the day when he was a member of Caedmon’s Call. He went solo about ten years ago. He’s an acoustic guitar playing, folk-y, clever lyric writing kind of musician. I love him. He played stuff from his newest album, Stockholm Syndrome (which I bought at the merch table),

as well as stuff from his older solo albums

and classic stuff from his time with Caedmon’s Call.

I always enjoy hearing the new stuff from musicians. It’s great to hear fresh stuff and see what creative direction they’re going in now. But I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed hearing the old stuff again. Often, when I hear music that I enjoyed years ago, I’ll listen and think, “Wow, this is lame. Why did I ever listen to this?” It’s never that way with Caedmon’s or Derek Webb. The lyrics are still as fresh and inspired as the first time I heard them. And I often get something completely new and different from it.

We stood to the left side of the stage in the renovated movie theatre turned concert venue. When I grew tired of standing, I sat on the stained commercial carpet and softly sang along to old memories. I was surprised at the emotions evoked when he sang his ballad to singles everywhere, Table For Two. I was transported back to my single days of anxiously awaiting my hubby to be. I resisted the urge to hug the legs of my husband standing behind me.

The concert greatly encouraged me. Being a Christian singer/songwriter, many of his songs are of a spiritual nature. I was encouraged as he sang some of my old, forgotten favorites. As he sang “Broken Heart,” I was reminded how much the lyrics convict me.

I’ve got faith in the bank
And money in my heart
I’ve got a callous place where your ring used to be, my love

I’ve traded naked and unashamed
For a better place to hide
For a righteous mask, a suit of fig leaves and lies

…And now I want a broken heart.

The thing I love most about Derek is that he is not the typical “fluff” Christian songwriter. He isn’t afraid to tackle tough social and political issues and write some extremely challenging lyrics. I grow tired of the same old formula for songwriting on Christian radio and I find his style of writing refreshing. It seems much of his newer stuff is getting more and more controversial. I think I read somewhere that someone walked out of one of his concerts because they were offended. Awesome.

I was also encouraged as I watched him share the songs and stories from twenty years of writing music. Just hours before, before we’d hit the road, I had been rummaging through my bin of journals. In the bottom of the bin was a file folder labeled, “Song lyrics and ideas.” In it were pages and pages of snippets of lyrics and attempts at song writing. Some pathetic, and some not so bad. The desire to song-write has been rekindled. We’ll see where it goes.

And sadly, though he was taking requests and someone shouted out “Better Than Wine,” he did not play it. Sorry, Em.

Another snippet to share

Thursday, February 3rd, 2011

After sharing my last post, I decided that I shall stick with first person present tense for my memoir writing. The feedback I got was that present tense was the best choice. Now that I’ve been attempting to write in it for awhile now, my brain is becoming more used to it. It’s getting easier.

Here’s another snippet I’ve been working on and fine-tuning.

The director straightens my robe and the red tie around my neck. It’s choking me a little, and I fidget, trying in vain to loosen it. The other 15 children with me are even wigglier, as I stand quietly and obediently, awaiting instruction. The frazzled choir director lines us up, pleading with us to stay still and in our places. She is mostly successful, as only the most rowdy children begin to move again. Although we are only vaguely aware of what we are about to do, we sense that it is important. And big.

We parade out of the back room and onto the stage. I can hear people clapping and “Awwwws” throughout the crowd. We line up in three rows and our director shuffles the stragglers back into place. She takes her place in front of the choir, and with a big grin on her face, reminds us with her hand motions to keep our eyes on her. The piano plays the intro, and we launch into the song that we have rehearsed over and over for months.

Standing next to the lit up Christmas tree filled with white crocheted angel ornaments, we sing Away in a Manger in our sweet little off key voices. I am not scared standing in front of so many people. I feel safe buried amongst all the other children. We sing loud, miss a few cues, smile our cute toothy grins, and the boy next to me waves to mom. The people applaud loudly when we finish.

I don’t know it yet, but this music and worship thing is going to become a big part of my life.

Did you know that “wigglier” is a word? I thought it was “more wiggly” and Word corrected it to “wigglier.” Say that five times fast.

The “frazzled choir director” comes not from this specific memory but from my time as a children’s choir director. Just speculation that this director probably felt like I did right before a performance. 🙂

My musical resolution

Saturday, January 8th, 2011

I have one more resolution to add to my list. Perhaps it’s foolish to add more and it will simply set me up for failure. But I think my resolutions have been simple and obtainable. This last resolution is a musical one.

I’m not going to aim at becoming a guitar virtuoso. I’m simply going to attempt to try the things I’ve been afraid of and have continually found a way around.

I’m going to stop running from barre chords.

Here goes nothing.