teenage diary

Before there were blogs, there were journals, before there were journals there were diaries. The kind with tiny little locks on them and pink swirly pictures of princesses or flowers or something. Gossip is recorded, crushes, disappointments and dreams. For me this is where I wrote the phrases that later became part of my poems and then later my songs. But I don't write in a journal anymore. I twitter. I facebook. I blog. I don't write anything that isn't shared with some sort of audience. It's a shame really. The idea that everything one says is interesting enough or ready to be read by others. As an artist of any kind this should strike fear in my heart. Ideas shouldn't be shared until they are worked over, seasoned, marinated and cooked on high until ready to serve. Alot of the time they turn out crappy and no one ever sees or hears them. Or at least that's how it should go. But sometimes the scraps provide the bridge or the chorus for another piece that's missing something. This process is completely non existent in my life because the crappy, cheesy thoughts or phrases never get a chance. They die on the vine. I am mixing methaphors like nobodies business. See my point? You didn't really need to read that.

All that to say, I am going to go out and buy something with paper in it that requires a pen or pencil and privacy. I am determined. I need somewhere to go for ideas- half baked as they may be. Somewhere to put the phrases that aren't ready to be read yet. Maybe they never will be. Nonetheless.

I had a bit of a fit, a breakdown sort of - when I first moved to Texas and just after Matt and I were married. I felt cut off, disconnected, a stranger in a strange land where everybody was nice but I couldn't tell if anybody really liked me. One night I decided to find the manila folders containing all the poetry I wrote in highschool and college. I was a creative writing major in college so there was a lot of material there. I found myself in the midst of piles and piles of papers and half empty boxes, in the middle of the living room floor in this strange place- clutching these things as if it say "I exist." "I am real." "Here is the proof."
There were alot of cheesy phrases. I kept all the scratch paper where these poems began so I could see how they evolved. Those folders are precious to me. I need to go dig them out of the garage again.

Playground

Remember the way it felt to run and run and run on the playground as a kid and your lungs would burn and feel like bursting and you'd collapse with your friends giggling... in a pile like puppies?

Chasing Sydney for the 120th time around the tiny little school playground I remembered that and it was a sweet memory. I grew up in a really beautiful place. For all the emotional scaring it caused it was still beautiful, green, lush, manicured. Magical even.

Well that's that. We are making a Christmas album with the amazingly talented Robbie Seay producing. A dream come true for me. So great for me and Matt. A husband who can produce his wife's records is a rare and patient man. That man- Matt- will get a break and be the artist this time. Well deserved. We wrote a song on Monday, on our Valentines-President's Day- Day Off day. The verses are taken from/ inspired by a Polish carol called "Amid the Silence". It's taken from a musical thing I've been playing on the guitar for 10 years but cleaned up and tightened up and made into a song and not just a musical thing. Mostly cause Matt figured out how to make it rock.


More later. Night, night.

Cameron

Daring to Dream

Ok, cheesy as it sounds I am daring to dream today.

"Unbelief puts our circumstances between us and God. Faith puts God between us and our circumstances."

I love this quote. And today has been all about this. Must stop editing myself, limiting God, and aw shucks-ing and self protecting when it comes to my art, music, and everything else I do. I need to have the same epiphany with art that I had with publicity at Ball High School in Galveston.

"Here we go again" I said, "Another publicity thing where I am going to get all excited and somebodies gonna be unhappy with some aspect of this and it's going to ruin it for me so I may as well not get excited."

"Excuse me?" said God, "this is not about you, or them, or whose unhappy or what anyone thinks of you or what you do. It's about me. So GET EXCITED."

Then I read this quote above, and then I read "I lift my eyes to you, the one enthroned in Heaven" Psalm 123....and how it's about NOT looking at ourselves or eachother, but looking UP at Him and all the supernatural possibilities in Him.

Matt and I had coffee with one of our favorite artists and people, Robbie Seay. And after Matt was like, "Can anybody really be that cool?" He is so down to earth and so real and he said something that really made me check myself..."I hear 'I'm just a worship leader,' alot, or 'I just want to capture what I've done', rather than looking forward to creating something better than one is...something amazing and inspiring'". I do that. I say that. I protect myself with low expectations and pass it off as piety.

That is SO NOT GOD. My dreams are His dreams. This new record is HIS record and it is going to be better than I am, better than we are. That's my pledge. "It's complicated," Robbie said,"this intersecting of faith and art and business. And it should be. It's ok that it's complicated".

Totally profound for me. I struggle with this and it's ok. Just need to start getting excited and turning it over. It's about Him. I can get excited. It's not for me, or you. It's not so you think I'm talented or humble or spiritual or smart. It's not so I think I'm talented or humble or spiritual or smart. It- the record- IS so that He is celebrated and communicated. Simple really.

My little brother (he's married and 30, can he still be my little brother) is giving his next Damnwells record away for free through paste magazine next week. I think he is experiencing the same thing. When you really let it go, it comes back to you, better than you could have imagined. Funny, isn't it.

Vegan for a Day

It wasn't as hard as I thought. I had dinner twice though. Let you know how tomorrow goes. I feel good though. I am sure this would make the "things white people like" list, but I don't care. I need to eat something besides cold french fries and chicken nuggets.