Wanna be a record producer?

So here's what I am thinking...with your help we can make a beautiful record. But we can only do it with your help.


We need to raise some money --- not nearly the total budget. A good chunk of it is accounted for -hallelujah- but $6500 is the balance we need to come up with. I thought it was $5500 but that didn't include album artwork. Of course if any of you talented folks wanted to donate that..that'd be cool?

Here's what I am thinking:

$5- Coffee Making Volunteer Level: get's you a sticker that says "I support good music" and a hug...

$15- Youth Intern Level: get's you a hug (or two)and a free download once the record's done

$50- I'm in Seminary Level: get's you a hug, a t-shirt with the album art that says "Co-producer" on the back, and a free download

$100- I'm with the Church Band Level: get's you all of the above and a lifetime backstage pass to all matt&cameron events (hee hee just kidding, that would be boring)- get's you all of the above, a thank you and picture in the liner notes, a t shirt and a big hug or two.

$500- Front row pew Level: gets you Naming rights to our next child? Your own theme song? Seriously, how about a free live performance at your house (or wherever)and all of the above...(you could even charge admission and make your money back.)

$1000- Rock Star for Jesus Level: Get's you all of the above and the ability to sing on the record! Yes! That's right. You. Us. Making music. How cool is that.

Ok, I have to admit I am stealing all these ideas from Jill Sobule, but they are good ones. And I've always liked Jill Sobule. I digress...

I know the economy sucks, (hello- Matt got laid off in September)but does that mean we should shelve our hopes and dreams? I think not!

Here's the backstory:
It's a record. Matt & Cameron & friends (Robbie Seay is producing, Brian Mann is arranging and co-writing some and the lot of them will be making general magic of our music.)

It's called "Born to Us" which is the name of the song that Matt and I wrote together a few months after Sydney was born. It's the first of many Christmas songs that I've written since she came into the world- I've almost exclusively written Christmas songs since then.

Here's why- I think: I've been thinking about how human it all was- a teenage Mary, a barn, a helpful though thoroughly freaked out Joseph. How every detail of God's story is designed to resonate with us through our own very human experiences. These songs tell that story and God's told us to tell it.


Let's get started! Go to PayPal

To: olivettemusic@gmail.com
From: You!

And the rest should be pretty easy! Start warming up your voices...

not a chicken sandwich

I am thinking about starting another blog about church communications and calling it "not a chicken sandwich. blogspot.com" or something of the sort. I imagine I will use it to vent all my "church marketing sucks" impressions and irritations as well as ideas I think are brilliant and innovative. I am wondering if you- dear friends- have any interest in such things and also what you think of me launching an entirely separate blog from this one. I have been remiss at posting here and I fear I will lose you entirely if I stray...but...I also think there's a time and a place for my "teenage diary" moments and a very different time and place for thoughts on church communications- which as some of you know- is part of my new job title at Grace Pres.

Primarily- the very idea of 'church marketing' is absurd and irritating in the sort of way that just rubs you wrong. Am I right? Marketing is for chicken sandwiches. Communicating is how we share the gospel. It's how we share how our lives have been transformed by God. So even when we are making fliers for an older adults tea party or launching a technologically innovative web site- we are communicating the gospel to the outside world. And sometimes we do that very poorly. We do it poorly when we forget the great commandment, to go and make disciples (note- disciples, not converts), and begin to the think of the church as our own private country club- here to serve our unique needs in a way that best suits us. But "the choir" is not who we are interested in preaching too if we are following Jesus. It's those "outsiders", the ones on the fence, the mom who drops off her children at VBS and wonders for a moment what our church might have for her; these are the people we need to reach with the gospel before it's too late.

One thing I miss about the charismatic church is the viewpoint that we are living in the last days. It's not something us pragmatic Presbyterians like to dwell on. And rightly so. If we know our bibles, and Presbyterians do, we know that neither the day nor hour of the Lord's returning will be known to us. Like a thief in the night, He'll come. We just need to be ready.

But I believe he will have some tough questions for us: Did we share our stories of healing, grace and redemption in ways that were easily understood by non believers and comprehended, or did we lace our speech with "Christianese" because it was easier? Did we confidently use our gifts to advance the Kingdom or did we wait for someone to tell us to? Did we create an 'insider world' with our print, video and website or did we create multimedia invitations into the Kingdom and the life of our church?

We are not a chicken sandwich. We are the bride of Christ. Believe it!

I say this all mostly for myself. I am an external processor. I guess what I want to say is that those of us in ministry must unapologetically use technology, media and creativity to advance the gospel in a way that is relevant, and let God do the rest.

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.

Budapest

I couldn't not write tonight. I couldn't not write. I couldn't not say what's occured to me tonight, but what's been building over the weeks and months since we've been back from Budapest. When I think about us going back, I feel like I am hiding - as in a game of hide and seek. Only imagine I am just a kid and playing with someone much bigger and older than I am, and when I shut my eyes real tight and wedge my body inside the cupboard, I am still found. My playmate just smiles and calls my name. It's really not a fair game. Him being omniscent and all.

So I am playing hide and seek and what I am hiding from is the overwhelming sense of being called back. Back to Budapest, yes, to the Mission Field, yes. Those two things are interdependant- it's seems. But I could be wrong. We could be called to Uzbekhistan? I just don't think so. I hope not. No offence Uzbekhistan, but we are called to Budapest. Her name - yes- we've feminized her- is like the name of your most favorite, glamorous, creative cousin. Someone who inspires and mystifies you. Someone who sometimes makes you sad because of her broken heart, but amazed at her indomitable spirit.

Ok, are you getting tired of the analogies and metaphors. I am waxing poetic, and I am due that. It's been a few days.

Tonight our precious friends and bandmates joined us for a magical time of worship at St. Martins. I was tired, late and ornery. The band was amazing and patient. The worship time was anointed, breathtaking and holy. I was convicted in my spirit: I have been hiding.

Steve Johnson and his family were there and Steve spoke about Budapest tonight, but something he said amazed me..."As we say in YWAM, it's not your ability, but your availability, that matters."

Lord, am I available? Am I avaiable to do as Abram was instructed to do, to leave what's known, safe and familiar and follow the sound of your voice into the wide, wide world? I like to think so, I do. I like to pat myself on the back a bit and say, "We've done that, we've moved our family across a country, ocean and continent for You. We're all set, thanks. Back to normal now, thank you very much." But it's the still small voice, and the magnificent presence that reminds me: "We've only just begun."

Make of it what you will but I am tired of playing both hands in this great cosmic card game (there I go again with the analogies!). I want to go, I do, but I am scared. And that's the truth. No more hiding.