Studio Journal: Day Two & Three

14 June 2011




Creativity is a process. Art is a journey. Recording isn’t always easy. I think at times we can dream up a recording process as something that is simple; a bunch of musicians coming together to play some music and to create something out of nothing. It’s hard. It takes a lot of work, dedication, sweat, and tears. That’s why I love the process. Of course the end goal is that of a finished, mastered album, but the journey to get to that point is nonetheless as important and intense as having the final product in your hands, ready to go to the masses. 


Being here makes me think of being merely eighteen, bright eyed and bushy tailed, moving out to Washington to record my first project. The fear, the nerves, the lack of much knowledge in that of recording sciences. I’d like to think I’ve come a long way since then. 3 records of my own under my belt and helping with numerous other projects has helped me craft, well, my craft. The vibe must be right. You must learn to play to a click track. Singing in a recording microphone should literally be considered a sport. You are forced to learn as you go, making many mistakes along the way and gaining only few triumphs; ones you have fought long and hard for. 


Yet, there is nothing quite like handing a stranger your finished product and knowing that your blood, sweat, and tears will somehow present themselves in every note, word, and arrangement. That is the destination of the journey of recording. 


Currently we sit on Day 3 of the process. It has been slow going. We’ve hit a few snags along the way and time has been passing at sloth speed. But, we endure nonetheless. Currently, Ryan is tracking the final acoustic guitar tracks. Drums and bass are mostly done. Matt and I wait patiently for the time when we actually get to track keys and guitar lines. 



This record excites me. To see my husband finally experiencing this lifestyle, this art form. This journey. There’s nothing quite like it and I hope to be in this environment for a long time, in whatever capacity. I hope someday for our kids to discover our old albums in an attic somewhere and think that their parents were actually cool when we were their age. Music will always be a part of us and I dearly hope to pass that on to our children in the future. 


So, today, we carry on. We get the job done, or as close as we can. We discover more about ourselves, our boundaries, the things we must learn, and the bond that bands us together. 


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