Day One | On The Road

Life moves swiftly. One day you’re a college student, staying up way too late, playing as much music as you possibly can with a group of people that will forever leave a mark on your life. Then the next, you are waking up far too early, married and making sure that your kids survive and thrive through their lives thus far. Life is now filled with changing diapers, making little meals that mostly go uneaten, and working for the man. Life is also filled with finding little pockets of time to pick up my guitar, usually at nap time or staying up far too late because I feel the need to figure out a lyric or melody that I haven’t been able to shake. 

This is me. I am a creative being that has once again become restless yet hopeful. 

Today, I am setting out from the ordinary in hopes that I can create something of worth once more. Today we are on the road to the northwest, the place that held my heart so tightly for so many years. Those years seem very far away to me now, over a decade has passed since I lived there and immersed myself in the music. Thankfully, some of the friendships I gained while there are still in my life in whatever capacity they can be. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and whoever they are, I think they are correct. 

The life I now live is a very good one, I am certain of it. But, I also know that there is a constant whisper hidden deep within me to create and play music in whatever capacity that I can. I know that I can never fully run away from those whispers, they are a constant companion in my life no matter how hard I have tried to ignore them in the past. I couldn’t stop if I tried. 

We are on the road and heading towards the place my heart longs for more often than not. I am going to record an album with people that have shaped my life in so many ways. I have been working my tail off the past couple of months in preparation for this project, dusting off my guitars and kicking out the cobwebs of my musical abilities. I feel rusty but I am hopeful that once I am back in the swing of things, it will flow from me like a second nature once more. 

It almost feels like we are currently driving into the past. Every mile gets me closer to the person I once was but now I am older, hopefully wiser, and ready to dive in fully with abandon. We are away from our kids for nine days and I hardly know what I should be doing with myself. In many ways, it feels like if I don’t do this project now, I probably never will. But, I know that my children are always watching and they get to see their mom following after her dreams and doing something she believes in. This is important work and I refuse to take that lightly. 

“The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.....So if you’re paralyzed with fear, it’s a good sign. It shows you what you have to do.” 

-The War of Art, Steven Pressfield 

Life of a Musician: Calloused Hands

I’ve wondered many times in my life why I continue to be a musician. Bands have come and gone, musicians and friends have done much of the same. We all keep going on living our lives in our little corner of the world and songs slowly fade away into the years that have gone by. Our voices have become quieter over the years and our instruments have gathered dust. 

Yet, still I always return to these things. No matter where I seem to be in my life, there is an aching that always takes me back to that place, to that guitar, to those piano keys. I’d like to think that I could run away from them forever; for what reason I’m not really sure. Maybe it’s the idea of being able to conquer something that has been my ghost for so long. It has followed in my footsteps through every downfall and every triumph of my life. It has been my constant companion when I couldn’t see three feet in front of me and only wanted to turn back and run away as fast as my feet would carry me. 

My hands ache to have those calloused hands that signify the long days playing a guitar. I long to be able to close my eyes and let my hands guide my heart and soul across the piano keys. I’ve come to places in my life where if I didn’t put pen to paper and gotten the lyrics out of my soul, I would have surely gone crazy. There have been times where I can’t seem to write fast enough. Where the lyrics pour out of me from places in my heart that I didn’t even know existed. Then there are the seasons, much like the last few years, where I have to fight with everything within me just to pen a few lines.  Life has a funny way of dictating the flood or the famine. 

I do believe as an artist it is important to be heard. I also believe that these words and the progression of notes were meant to not only reside in my basement or in the pages of my tattered moleskine. My sanity, the point in which I feel truly alive, is when I open my mouth and let those songs live. If only it were that easy most of the time. It is a struggle, a daily battle between not having enough time in the day and having the life sucked out of me in the office. It is a process, one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. It is an aching, where one feels their heart strings pulled as they walk right past the piano and out the door to live their adult life. 

Today, I realize the importance of not running away from that ache. 

I'm Thankful For: The Creative

I'm thankful for......

Music. Art. Photography. 

All of the amazing people that have been a part of my journey as a song-writer. 

All of the late night recording sessions and the chance to build something with someone else. 

All of the songs, the gigs, the laughs, the difficult times.

The moment when I capture an aspect of someone else's existence through the sound of a shutter. 

The glazed over eyes after editing photographs for hours upon hours. 

The back porch song writing sessions, the lyrics poured out from our hearts, and the coming together as a band of people that truly love each other. 

The simple fact that day in and day out, I have the opportunity to do something that I love, something that I couldn't possibly live without, and something that will always be knitted to my very soul. 

I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me-like food or water.

Ray Charles