Figuring It Out

I'm circling back around to this blog in case I figure out what I need to say about Race in America.

In the meantime...

• I made a record.  Here it is.  A couple of the song demos from earlier in this blog's life found their way onto the album.  I'm sporadically blogging about those songs here.
• I missed my quota of one post per year last year.  Alas.

Everything's pretty messy.  We'll see if I figure out what to say here.  Or this might be my post for 2016.

Song of the Month: July

This month's prompt was "finish a song"--i.e. take something that's been sitting around unfinished for some time and just get it done.

I had been hoping to possibly figure out a couple other seeds that I'd been unsuccessfully chipping away at, but then Psalm 46 came up in another context, which got me back to a setting of it that I had started a while ago.  I had put it away since it felt too derivative at the time, but I decided to go with that direction and then even attempted to write a chorus that was "Hillsong"-ish (which is not my go-to style).

The Psalm has a refrain that happens a couple times:

The LORD of hosts is with us;
   the God of Jacob is our fortress.

And it also points to the new Jerusalem in Revelation 22.

Demo here.

Song of the Month: June

The prompt for last month's group was "three chords and fear."

Demo here.

There Was A Time

A songwriter at my church recently started a songwriting group for anyone interested.  Writing is (at best) maybe 4th on my list of things I do musically, but I do enjoy it sometimes.  We had our first meeting last month, and we left off with an optional writing prompt for this month's meeting:  Freedom.

Since I tend to focus on the brokenness and struggle of the Christian life, I ended up writing something more about the absence of freedom and lack of growth in my life.

Rough, one mic, no click track, demo here.

Next month's prompt:  three chords and Fear.  Not sure if I'll finish anything, but we'll see.

All's Lost, All's Found

I don't typically write reviews of stuff for public viewing, but it's another way that I can support my friends in their art in a concrete way, so I went ahead and did it.

My friend Ben recently digitally released a solo album (physical discs coming soon with package artwork by the fabulous Jodi Hays). It's really good. I played cello on it. I'm really proud of my contributions. As in, "I can't believe I sound that good right there and that moment gives me goosebumps" proud of it. Specifically, track 7.

Anyway, I went ahead and submitted my review to amazon and iTunes. I encourage you to get this album and to listen to it thoroughly.

Here's the review:

(Full disclosure: I play cello on some of these tracks, though I have no financial stake in it.)

I've listened to this album a few times over the last few days. It rewards focused listening from start to finish. There's flow and understated beauty throughout these songs that variously put a lens on individual lives and relationships and tell stories of love, failure, loss, family, brokenness, healing, and hope. There are gorgeous sonic moments throughout.

The album is half instrumental tracks and half songs with lyrics, and all the tracks have a thoroughly crafted sensibility--fully realized with different textures and colors, building layers judiciously at just the right moments, never with too much. Some tracks groove and drive; others breathe full and slow. These are rich, acoustic soundscapes, and there are stories in all the songs, even the ones without lyrics.

The opening track, As I Mused, the Fire Burned, pulls you in like a steady tide. For You I Wait (track 5) is a study in sparseness, drawing everything it can out of a simple electric guitar groove, with the slightest support from percussion and lovely highlights from spacey, meandering clarinet lines that weave in and out. Rain On Consequence (track 7) is a personal favorite. I Lie Silenced (track 9) is an instrumental signpost that points back to the opening track; instead of the insistent piano pattern of the opener, the song presents a slowed down melodic motif, carried by a clear violin and punctuated by a stately pulse of chords underneath. The effect is somewhat reminiscent of Michael Giacchino's score work on Lost. The Wreckage (track 12) is, as the title might imply, a bit gut-wrenching. The closing track, All's Lost, All's Found, takes the thread started in the opening track and carried in I Lie Silenced and turns it into a brief, haunted epilogue, bordering on a lament, but still a reminder that beauty endures despite life's hardships.

Ben is a talented guitarist and singer and multi-instrumentalist sideman for other artists. He has a producer's exacting sensibilities, and this album is the fruit of years of labor, finally putting forth a cohesive project that reflects his own artistic voice. I'm proud to have been a part of this project, I'm excited to see what he does next, and I look forward to supporting his work in the future.

The Catch-Up

I've been remiss. I'm ok with that. Here's a bit of mostly outdated news.

I've been playing about a show a week since the start of September. That's a decent amount for me. It's been great. Mostly pro bono work, but stuff that I want to be involved with--friends whose company I enjoy and whose art I want to support. Venue shows, outdoor shows, church shows, coffee shop shows, house shows. Cello, upright bass, electric bass. Even led worship at my church a couple weeks ago--while playing electric. That was a fun challenge for me. And leading worship is often one of the ways that I most experience joy in Christ.

The last couple months of shows have clarified my take on music in my life here in Nashville. I want to be involved with stuff I want to be involved with. I want to support my friends in their art-making. If that's the case, then pro bono is fine. Money is an added bonus.

This past Saturday, I played a surprise wedding with a friend. Guests thought they were coming for a nice dressy engagement party. But partway through, the couple announced that they were going to have the wedding right then and there in the house. There was a break to set up the room and change into the wedding dress, then Charlie and I played "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" (from the Garden State soundtrack) for the processional. Less than 10 minutes later: married. And awesome.

Less awesome was finally finding the mouse that had been decomposing in our house for a couple days. My housemate and I searched all over--up in the attic, down in the basement, all over the kitchen. Until finally we pulled the oven from the wall, unscrewed the back panel to open it up, and--

Yeah, it was nice and bloated, stuck up in some wiring. Gross. But, situation resolved.

Less resolved has been some unusual stuff at work. An ethical lapse on the part of a co-worker. We're working through the fallout there, and we're a pretty small department. It's been tricky. But I have a clearer picture now than 24 hours ago of God's capacity to bring redemption out of it. We'll see how it plays out. But that's been hard.

I've been listening to Sara Groves' forthcoming album, Fireflies and Songs. It's mellow. It suits me right now.

I leave on Wednesday for the Christian Community Development Association conference up in Cincinnati. A bunch of folks from my church are going this year, so that's great. The road trip and getting away a bit will be nice, too.

Gang and gun crime hit really close to home a couple weeks ago. A teenager I know whose picture is up on the Nashville Police press release website, charged with attempted homicide. There's more to it, of course. But it's pretty heart-breaking--not just the event itself, but all sorts of circumstances around it and in the aftermath. All the ways that this is almost normal--or at least very much within the realm of understandable reality--for his family. It's gotten me re-engaged with the family, though, which has been good. I hadn't seen them as much lately.

I could say more about how I'm changing and how I'm not changing. Mostly how I'm not changing. But not right now. I probably don't have the perspective, anyway.

Lastly, I leave you with another music video. I played a show on bass for Charlie a couple weeks ago. He is one of the artists on a music subscription service called Brite Revolution--$5 flat monthly fee, for which you get mostly unreleased/exclusive content from their whole roster of artists.

Anyway, Brite had a showcase for the Next Big Nashville 4-day quasi-music festival--tons of shows in a whole lot of venues all over the city. Buy a bracelet, see whatever you want. I learned the night before the gig that I was getting a free bracelet out of it, which was awesome, since I wasn't up for paying $40 for one just on my own. I saw great shows all four nights, including Sarah Siskind and The Civil Wars.

Back to Charlie. He wanted to do a Smashing Pumpkins cover--a song I had never heard before (sorry, my 90's friends)--"Bullet with Butterfly Wings." Here you go:




Oh yeah, I almost forgot. My glasses fell into a fire over the weekend and burned like awesome. So I had to wear my sports glasses for the last couple days. Thankfully my new ones (that I had already ordered before said fire incident) arrived today. Although I was mentally preparing myself for going to CCDA in my rec specs and meeting all sorts of new people and telling them what planet I was from. Or challenging them to a game of racquetball right then and there.

Poison, Wine, & Honey

I will say more about my September soon, I think.

But for now, here's a very recent video of me and my friend Haley playing one of her newest songs together. We'd only rehearsed a couple times in preparation for a house show that we played together just this past Sunday night (our first time doing a show together). I really enjoyed working out parts and ideas and figuring out ways to complement her songs, and I'm proud of my contributions to this one. She's lovely and talented, as you will see.

Run Some More ?!?

I'm mostly just posting this to achieve for the first time ever four consecutive days of posting something.

I ran with the East Nasties this evening, my first time doing that. It's the local running group that my friend Mark organizes, and I know various folks from church who trained for the half-marathon back in April with this running group. They do Wednesday evening and Sunday morning runs. This was today's route, more or less. I had stopped by Mark's house on my way home after work, so we caught up a bit and he convinced me to come out for the run. It's not something that I would have been able to do back a few months ago, so I'm grateful for those past personal burdens having been lifted so that I could feel more free to step out in a new way.

I only knew a handful of the 50-70 people there, so I was a bit intimidated at first, but then the run started, and I chatted with a friend, met a new friend, made it back, hung around a bit, then ran the almost-mile from the rendez-vous point back to my house. It was good--I will plan on doing this again whenever I'm able.

Tomorrow I'm planning on seeing Sandra McCracken do her CD release show (a live album of a house show she did back in the winter) down at 3rd and Lindsley. Should be excellent.

Perhaps I will blog about it afterwards. Or not.

Stockholm Syndrome

It's finally here and definitely worth checking out.

Non Sequiturs

I tend to replay my interactions with various people in my mind a lot. Occasionally the introspection is useful. Most of the time it's not that constructive. Probably even counter-productive to a healthy inner life. I need to tell myself to get past it and keep moving on, not get stuck in the past, etc. And slap myself in the face.

We have a new housemate as of last weekend, just for the next few months before he can move into another place with friends in October. It's been cool with three of us in the house.

I haven't been sleeping that well in general, and my body doesn't really let me sleep in, even when it would be pretty useful. So I try to do something for an hour or so (like blog, read, eat breakfast, do devotions) before attempting a re-nap, or at least rest for my eyes and mind.

Yesterday evening was spent with a few friends at a pot-luck grill-out sit-down dinner on a front porch--thankfully covered from the huge rain. Fireworks could be seen only via television. It was a lovely time, a far cry from the total freak-out I remember having last year on July 4th weekend.

A couple months ago a friend called me over to take care of a dead mouse in her basement. Last night I think I had a dream where this same friend called me over to help her with a calculus problem. Mercifully, my dream seemed to have then moved on to something else entirely and spared my subconscious the angst of actually trying to solve the derivative. That might have qualified as a nightmare.

I'm currently reading a friend's copy of "Irresistible Revolution" by Shane Claiborne. Not life-changing, but I've been enjoying it. It's fun reading other people's books when they've made underlinings and notes in the margins. Little glimpses into their thoughts.

I'll be going home to Massachusetts for a week later this month, where I plan to find my copy of Harry Potter VI that I left there and start re-reading it. I could use a good fun read for my imagination. Although it does get pretty intense at the end in that cave. Ugh.

On Friday I went to see a documentary on the making of Derek Webb's forthcoming album, Stockholm Syndrome. The hour-long film was excellent, and I learned in the end credits that it was made by a very talented friend of mine. Well done, Brannon.

Then I got to listen to the album start to finish at a local coffeeshop where they played it over a PA. Full of electronic sounds and programmed beats with a bit of an edge. I really dig it. Makes me want to dance. Or blast it in my car driving at night. A couple of songs with soaringly beautiful lines. Some heartwrenching calls to love the other. Trademark DW writing. Street date on the hard copy album is September 1, but release date for digital download is this Tuesday (7/7/09).

A few months ago I set my Facebook to display in French. I like it.

That is all. It's been a good long weekend so far, restful and not restless, for the most part. But I feel the Sunday restlessness coming on. Perhaps I can go back to bed now.

I Love Music, I Love Nashville

It's the late end of a long day, so this is short.

I saw a great show tonight at one of my favorite venues.

I had heard great things about the headliner, Madi Diaz, and she and her band delivered. Rock-edged pop songs with great hooks and textures and execution. Good stuff.

Keegan Dewitt (with 4-piece string section) and Jacob Jones were also solid.

But the awesome unexpected pleasant surprise of the evening was Vandaveer. A guy and a girl + one guitar, but with so many colors and so much power and huge vitality. Folk ballads with a cool and varied Euro troubadour tinge. They have an album coming out in August that I am definitely looking forward to. Seeing their set put a big fat joyful smile on my face that I just couldn't help.

I'm kinda wired now. Good luck with sleeping.

I lost my dignity somewhere outside Atlanta.

Friday I drove down to Decatur, GA, just outside of Atlanta, with Treva and Ben for a show at Eddie's Attic. I'd never played there before, but I had seen it a bunch of times on various folks' tour listings, so I was looking forward to the mini-road trip and gig. We slogged through some rush-hour traffic, got there, and loaded in while a quality band from South Carolina called Tent Revival did their sound check.

Strike 1:
Within 30 seconds of seeing the other band sound check, I definitely started to feel insecure about myself because they had a pretty killer cellist / electric guitar player who is way better than me. Now, most players are better than me, and I at least project a degree of being ok with that, just as a matter of fact in recognizing my limits. I go back and forth between wishing that I had other people's gigs and being content with where I'm at--in terms of my abilities and the great opportunities that I've already had to make music with my friends. I'm good at simultaneously projecting confidence and self-doubt.

Strike 2:
Within 30 seconds of our own sound check, the sound guy started giving me a hard time and really disrespecting me. After the third remark, I just stopped him and calmly said something like, "I feel like you're talking to me really condescendingly, and you don't need to treat me like that." He mumbled something about how he was stressing out with the craziness of trying to sound check four acts that night, and he backed off a bit after that, though he never apologized. For my part, before and after I called him out, I complimented the sound and thanked him multiple times.

So it didn't exactly make for a fun time in the lead up to the show. I was already a bit uncomfortable cause I was going to be running through the other cellist's setup. And I've mentioned the insecurities. And now out of nowhere, the sound guy was getting on my case. It took a lot of self-control to not go off on him. I knew that would only make things worse, but I definitely wanted to throw a fit and tell him in no uncertain terms that he was being a big fat jerkface. Instead, I bottled up that angry response--which usually means that I'm on the verge of getting emotional--and I just spoke calmly and clearly on the outside. I didn't dwell on it and try to shame him over and over--I just called him out then and there.

Anyway, after sound check, Treva and Ben and I sat down to dinner (at least the venue does take care of its artists with a meal coupon and two drinks), and they both commended me not only for speaking up and saying something, but for saying it kindly (Ben got a bit of the same treatment from the sound guy, too, but I definitely bore the brunt). Praying grace together was a good reminder of God's sovereign presence over us and our desire for him to be glorified even when things are getting messy like that.

The show itself was pretty solid, a couple misses but mostly strong. Though since we didn't really know everybody else on the bill, it definitely had a different feel from shows that you do with your friends as the other acts, where you're really able to make music in community and just be really supportive of each other without agendas. Otherwise, I think the music thing can get a bit mercenary (mea culpa)--preoccupations with swapping shows (you play with me when you come to my city, I'll play with you when I go to your city) and who's playing whose drum set and the order of the lineup and all that business of advancing yourselves.

Otherwise, hanging out with Treva and Ben was great, the food and drink were solid, it was a treat to hear a bunch of live music in a listening room environment where the audience is really attentive to it--but it was still a lot to process internally. I know that I'm still a bit hurt/angry for the way the sound guy treated me. For the fact that he never apologized or even offered me a perfunctory "hey, nice job, you guys sounded good" just to openly push the reset button and try to start over. Like I said, I reached out a couple times--thanked him right after our set, but he didn't even make eye contact with me that time, then thanked him again outside in the parking lot at the end of the night. I don't even remember what he said back--maybe "sure thing"...?

Treva and Ben saw me go up to him that last time in the parking lot just before we left, and when I got back to the car, she said something like, "You're a sweet man, Hitoshi." And all I could come up with was, "No no, I just know the transforming love of Jesus Christ, and that makes all the difference." And yet, I hyper-analyze, and I am way too thin-skinned--I wish it were easier for me to just let go of crap like that and brush it off. But it usually leaves a mark and can be hard for me to move on a lot of the time. To be honest, given the opportunity to play there again, I wouldn't want to go, at least not right now. So pray for me, if you're inclined, that I might let this go, truly forgive and make peace in my heart in the face of all this stuff.

That's only the half of it, of course. Somewhere in the whole mix of all that craziness going on, seeing the other band and their cellist, it really did bring up so much self-doubt, to the point where I was overwhelmed by an acute feeling that I had nothing to offer God right then and there. I'm trying to figure out what about that is true and what isn't. I think at least part of that is something to be ok with: if I were stripped of everything that I have--even the good things that I might use for the building up of God's kingdom--and all that I were left with was Jesus, that would be ok. He is my life and my praise. And only I can give God the praise the he desires of me.

Just as we started playing our first song, I felt pretty helpless (useless?) and prayed to God that somehow this would bring him honor and he would use this to be glorified. It doesn't make sense to me that my shortcomings and all my lack can be used to bring God glory--I feel like I have to play well and not make mistakes and create beauty as best I can. But so often, I just can't, can't do it well. At the least, even if no one else is blessed by my not-super-awesome playing (and I mean that in a very straightforward way), and even if no one else can see it, I trust that he is doing a work in my heart--maybe something of what it means for me to worship him in spirit and in truth.

Why I Am Looking Forward to Valentine's Day This Year

David Mead at The Basement

9pm

$7

Grateful

I suppose I'm a week late, but I am thankful for...opportunities to still be making music here in Nashville--doing it in community, living out that part of who I am, enjoying it. Worked on a friend's album last month, presumably to come out sometime next year. Played a Christmas show tonight with some friends. Looking forward to playing for another friend's CD release show sometime in February or March. Mostly cello, but even got to share a couple of my own songs at a show put on by my church a few weeks ago. I'm not awesome at the things I do, but I'm decent, and I do my homework to prepare myself for the most part. And sometimes I do some really solid work. So I'm thankful for all that--for still being in Nashville. For still wanting to be in Nashville (for now).

This month will fly by, undoubtedly. We'll be doing Christmas in Chicago this year, which will be new. My mother and I will fly up and converge there at my brother's place. Should be a fun time, though different.

I'm grateful that 2009 is almost here.

Work

So, I have a job, one that I've had for a little over a year now, minus my escapades in Vermont last summer. Technically my current job is part-time, but it's more or less the standard 9 to 5 with some wiggle room, and it pays the bills. I feel like music is definitely another job for me, as it is for a whole ton of folks here in Nashville ("Music City," we call ourselves), where I'm sometimes putting in upwards of 10-15 hours in a given week for prep and rehearsal and gigging when it's busy. Plus the things I do for my church--another few hours a week, and generally pretty much always in the back of my mind. Everybody's (hopefully) got those things in their lives that are fruitful labors, monetarily remunerated or not, juggled together with everything else that fills up the hours and days--rest/sleep, cook/eat, play soccer, read, socialize, do nothing time--let alone be married and raise a family for some of you all.

The idea was floated out there of paying me a bit for the things that I do for church, especially as the reponsibilities (and stress) have grown a bit the last few months compared to the stuff I started with last fall. I haven't figured that one out yet--the whole idea of Paul's having the rights of an apostle to earn his living off the Gospel, but choosing not to so that the Gospel would be free to all (I Corinthians 9). This isn't exactly that situation, but I haven't figured it out yet. I mean, I've certainly accepted honorariums in the past for the work I've done for and with my two home churches in Vermont, leading worship or directing the choir for a season. And that felt right, I appreciated their gestures of thanks for my labors at the end of those seasons, and because those churches were small, I felt like it came from each of the congregations as a whole as a gift back to me. But if it were to be a regular weekly paid job-esque thing, hmm...

If this were the kind of blog that solicited comments, here's where I'd say, "So what do you all think?" But, alas, it is not. And I like the illusion of not knowing exactly who's reading this and then being pleasantly surprised when someone mentions it to me. I mean, it's out there and public, I know, and I have no qualms about that. But since I feel more comfortable with my online community (facebook, myspace, blog) reflecting my real-life (offline? non-cyberspace? supra-virtual?) community, you all for the most part know how to reach me by other means anyways.

Not that you need to, that's really just a side point and a corollary to the fact that I am a late adopter to new technologies.

That is all. Back to work, in one or more of its various guises.

Kyiv

Great show tonight at The Rutledge playing with Taylor Sorensen's acoustic side project, Kyiv. We were minus our keyboard/accordion player, so I took a bit more of the instrumental slack on cello. And I felt pretty good about it, thought I played pretty well overall, with a few moments that felt really solid. Video may or may not show up here in a few days. We added a couple songs tonight that we didn't do earlier this month at the Basement show, songs from his other band, The Trigger Code. I charted them out as he played them for me after sound check tonight, then played them for the first time in the show itself. And it worked out, actually had some of my favorite moments there. We even got an encore from the appreciative crowd of friends--an encore in the old-school sense of the word, since we had already played all the songs we knew, so we played our first song encore une fois à la fin du concert.

Most of the time I am pretty hard on myself when it comes to my playing. All kinds of things that I can get down on myself about. But there are also times like tonight when, even with a few mistakes here and there, spontaneous and excellent things happen because a group of people are making music and trying to create honest beauty in a live setting, before a responsive and engaged and encouraging (albeit small) audience. It reminds me what I love about making music and creating. Or just listening to music for that matter--hearing some great David Wilcox songs that I hadn't heard before as my house mate played them for me this past weekend, for example.

My friend Eric is starting to record his new project, with Ben Shive producing. Ben's own long-awaited, long-in-the-making solo project finally comes out this week, "The Ill-Tempered Klavier." Matthew Jones has a new one coming out in August, "Swallow the Sea." Saw him play some of the new material live with a band last month, and it's fantastic. Hear a couple tracks on his myspace, plus some tracks from his excellent last record, "Throwing Punches in the Dark."

So much music out there, I love it. It's a lot of who I am, who and what I think I'm supposed to be, as best I can.

Happenings

Show last night at the Basement with Old Bear and Kyiv was actually pretty solid, despite some minor mishaps and my own stumblings and intonation issues whenever I can't hear what's going on, which is semi-often when there's no time to do a sound check (that's just a cheap excuse--I'd have those problems on almost any gig involving a sound system, sigh). But a couple proud moments, too--I particularly liked a solo that I took on the last song of the night. Good music that I can enjoy with good friends whom I care about. I think it's the kind of gig that I'm looking for. I'm still figuring out where and how the music all fits into my life. Art. Beauty. Not sucking. But after a busy month and a half of rehearsals and gigs and recording, I've got a couple quieter weeks, I think, before things pick back up again in the second half of the month.

Went to a few of the plenary sessions of the Christian Community Health Fellowship annual conference here in Nashville last weekend, courtesy of the clinic I volunteer at. I am not a medical professional, of course, but since the central theme was the Kingdom of God, a lot of what the speakers were sharing was a broad call toward a focus on God's Kingdom and what we as followers of Christ are called to be/do in bringing that to bear in whatever spheres we find ourselves in. So it was good, I appreciated a lot of it, resonated with various things I've been thinking about as I've become steadily invested in my church community, its vision and my family there and our sense of place in East Nashville.

The weekend before that (Memorial Day weekend) I was a groomsman in a special little wedding here in town. A lot of folks poured out a lot of effort and energy and giftings to make it a really lovely celebration. All I had to do was show up in my tux. The next day I moved in with a friend of mine, so I'm finally a bit more settled, at least for the semi-indefinite future. Then spent the next day helping out a friend of mine from church who runs something called The Bridge (a program of the local YMCA), joining up with a bunch of folks for some cleaning and organizing and setting up for their summer enrichment program at a local middle school. Seems like it's pretty amazing and intense. They just started up this week.

What next? I might help out this weekend on a work project with some church friends for the Barefoot Republic summer camp. Or I might just have a quiet day. The push/pull of wanting to be busy and co-laboring with friends, but trying to take seriously my need for a bit of rest, too. We'll see, it's a game-time decision.

And yeah, I guess all those paragraphs are about things and programs and events and labors where you can see the Kingdom of God breaking through and transforming our life and culture and relationships, etc.

And it's June. Whaddya know.

The Wilderness

I was working on a post last week all about the wilderness that I feel like I'm in right now. My friend calls it "the wasteland." I think I've been there since January or so, with a few good spells of refreshing (like the Lenten season). That's the short version, and I'll leave out all the blogtastically confessional melodramatic 'woe is me' details for now.

In the midst of the various things I'm dealing with and running away from, there is still the Gospel to contend with, of course. There are times when I'd rather actually be dealing with a whole wheelbarrow-ful of cow manure. But the truth of the Gospel isn't going away, and somehow it will bring redemption to the various fears and hurts and craziness. I feel like I need to run and hide a bit from various things and people (rightly or not), and hopefully the shelter I find is in the shadow of God's wings.

I'm learning about boasting all the more of my weaknesses (not one of my natural giftings). I'm definitely finding new things to boast about (I'll spare you here). Brick by brick, I need God to dismantle my false foundations--who I think I am, my identity and motivations apart from Christ. Who I'm being made into in Christ. I need to turn over every rock and repent. This could be a full time job.

--------------------------------------------------

I don't want for this to just be a blog o' my woes and emotional vomit (and yes, I do have other genuinely inter-personal channels in which to deal with my crap), so here are some good things going on:

• in my current housing limbo, the Tullocks have graciously let me come and crash in their upstairs area for a couple weeks...the move a couple weekends ago was surprisingly smooth, and I've settled in as much as I can in just a two-week stay...I'll be moving again for the more indefinite future with another friend from church this coming Memorial Day weekend...
  

• my mother and I have been vaguely talking about it for about a year now, but just recently things came together via my brother and his housemate (who works at an Apple store, I think) to get me a new MacBook Pro...I've been getting by for the last year and a half on a borrowed Tangerine iBook, so this is a bit of a step up...first things first: importing all my CDs into iTunes...
  

• my friend Shannon and I are splitting a quarter-bushel share from the Community Supported Agriculture program of Avalon Acres farm...there's a food drop every Wednesday for 26 weeks...the first drop was a couple weeks ago, and the lettuce was scrumptious...last week's strawberries were amazing...I'm looking forward to the rest of the season's fun bounty...
  

• my friends the Langsdorfs safely had their baby girl, Grace, last week...can't wait to meet her...
  

• the unexpected (but not unwelcome) uptick in music stuff continues...I've been rehearsing with Seth Wood for an EP he's recording this weekend...I'll be rehearsing with Taylor Sorensen for his more acoustically-oriented side project, Kyiv, in preparation for a show in early June...and it's looking like I'll be sitting in on Treva and the Suits' CD release show at The Basement at the end of June...good stuff...but the extra work is keeping me up past my bedtime, for sure...

I suppose all of those could be summed up in the word Provision. Luxury, too, for some of them, but I'll tackle that idol another time.

Another little oasis was this past Friday evening. I went to my friends' wedding rehearsal over at the Tulip Street United Methodist Church here in East Nashville, and after the rehearsal they graciously let me crash the rehearsal dinner at The Acorn over by Centennial Park. At the end of that trying week, it was so good for me to be in the presence of so much joy and love among all kinds of family and friends, and I got to meet some great folks and just feel welcomed all around. The fellowship of the body of Christ, a beautiful blessed thing. And still but a shadow of the joy that awaits us. But thank God for those wonderful intimations of His abiding glory and presence. Things for me to remember in the midst of the soulache.

I know that Jesus is the answer. Sometimes I'm not sure how to get there, days when I feel more like I'm at the bottom of a pit. So He's going to have to come and rescue me. And I know that He is able.

He is able. Here's to a God whom death could not hold, who came to save His beloved, trading His glory to take on our skin and bones for a season out of eternity, who came to redeem what He created and created good. Let me rest assured of His beautiful love and favor upon me. Let me take Him at his word, that He will never leave me nor forsake me.

All other ground is sinking sand...

Patience is easy for the first 10 minutes.

Actually, I feel relatively good about life right now. Here's a more mundane update on some other things that have been going on the last couple weeks, particularly on the music front.

I've been sitting in on rehearsals and gigs with Charlie Murphey's new band, Old Bear, some combination of bass and cello stuff. Did a bit of recording for an EP he's working on, too. He does good stuff, and it's been neat to see his music take a certain shape with a band behind it, giving him a chance to rock out a bit more with a rhythm section. So the last couple weeks have seen gigs at the Mercy Lounge, 12th & Porter, and now tonight at the Rutledge, opening for Drew Holcomb and Matthew Perryman Jones. Should be a good one.

But first up after work this afternoon is Siloam Family Health Center's volunteer appreciation party. I've been going there every Friday morning for a year now, and I love it. Usually I'm printing up various lists from their system and pulling charts for the upcoming clinic days, sometimes I get redirected to other little things that they need done. I am not medically inclined whatsoever, and I'm realizing that I'm even more squeamish about a lot of things than I thought I was. And that's ok. I have a place and a work to do there. I can partner with them in small ways, join them in their prayer times, show up for the culture-gram lunches, just chat with all the folks that I've gotten to know this last year, some of whom go to my church.

There's definitely something to be said for just showing up week after week, and I feel both a sense of belonging to and ownership of their labors. I feel loved and appreciated, and there are so many great folks--both staff and volunteer--who commit so much of their time and talents in the service of Siloam's mission: "to share the love of Christ by serving those in need through health care."

04+04=08

It's been a month. Maybe I'll do better this month. Probably not. Though I finally put my taxes in the mail, so I feel more free to spend a bit of time here. I'm just not that good at quickly spitting out the minutiae of my life on a semi-daily basis. I'm sure you've missed me. I, on the other hand, spend a lot of time with me.

March went by just as quickly as February, and I felt it. A lot of burners going on at once right now, mostly church stuff. Grateful for my job. It's not ideal, but it (and life) could certainly be a whole lot worse.

Looking forward to the new Weepies album later this month, Hideaway. Heard a bit of Daniel Lanois' new one a couple months ago on the road to a gig with a friend. Here Is What Is. Also on the list. That and Tim Keller's "The Reason for God" and this collection of Puritan prayers called "The Valley of Vision."

Heading off shortly to a church retreat out at Camp NaCoMe this weekend. Should be an excellent time of getting away, spending time with friends, casting vision for our church. I went last year, and a year later I know more people and know them more deeply, so I'm certainly looking forward to it.

And they filmed me earlier this week doing silly things playing cello for some skit material. We shall see.