these latter days.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Performance, Thoughts and Feelings
as anything, cool cats, dance, friend james, God, James, latter days, open mic, rap, rhine song, Shane, toll, world
Tonight, Shane and I went to the World Cafe’s open mic and played a couple of songs. It was fun. A blast, really. And oh, we might have met a few cool cats who want to produce our rap.
Yes, our rap, which was one of the two songs we played.
They sounded very excited, but you know, it’s always good to wait to see what actually happens, even though it’s flattering to hear someone else excited about your work.
But what I really want to mention is how we stopped back at some friends’ house afterwards. And I’m pretty sure Shane might have the Model-T of recording devices, which he brought out to document the festivities that ensued.
Because he played his guitar and we sang and sang. And because we didn’t look at the clock and pretended not to notice how tired we were, we kept singing. Even after the tape stopped because it had recorded its allowance of ninety minutes, we still sang. Well, I may have taken a small break to rest my eyes, but there were others still singing.
And I loved it.
And I couldn’t believe how full I felt. I mean, we had just eaten pancakes that our friend James had made, so my belly was quite content, but it was like my spirit was full too. There was all this peace that was flowing with the chords and the words and I was just there, helpless to do anything but subject myself to it.
And there’s this lyric from an Over the Rhine song that came into my mind:
There is a me you would not recognize, call it the shadow of myself;
And if the music starts before I get there, dance without me
You dance so gracefully…I really think I’ll be okay
They’ve taken their toll, these latter days…
And I can relate, I really can. Because there’s this me that is sometimes so full of this sense of well-being that I can hardly stand it. And in that moment I feel a little unrecognizable. Because I get all analytical and I think, how can this be–in light of what has happened to me? But there it is, anyway. Persistent. Like springtime. It happens, even after the worst of winter’s storms, I guess.
And yes, they sure as hell have taken their toll, these latter days…But I really think I’ll be okay. And I am pretty sure that’s not like a new idea or anything. I am pretty sure that the notion of me being okay is simply agreeing with what God and others have been so persistently saying all along.
our jam out.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, MP3, Thoughts and Feelings, video
as bucket, bum deal, cadbury, cadbury egg, egg, friend sarah, God, Ian, James, kind, lucky girl, Sarah, Shane, something, three cities
I am tired.
But maybe the best kind of tired.
And I know, it’s been a while since I’ve been the best kind of anything.
I also just ate a cadbury egg, a gift from my friend Sarah.
To say I am a lucky girl would be an understatement. It’d be giving too much credit to chance when there are people who purposefully do things to make my day sweeter.
And there’s not much that can make a day sweeter than a cadbury egg, I think.
Love that isn’t a bum deal comes to mind, but a cadbury egg is still quite good.
Still, I am the best kind of tired right now because Shane and I just finished what we affectionately refer to as our First World Tour.
Too lofty of a title you think?
Well, you go play Bear, DE on Friday, Philly on Sat, two services at church Sunday morning, and then Newark, DE on Sunday night and tell me that you didn’t just complete your first world tour.
And really, our First Three Cities In Two Different States Tour just doesn’t quite sound as catchy.
Or impressive.
And now I think I’ll sleep well tonight.
Basically, because I’ve been doing a lot of this lately.* ** ***
*
And I’ve also been playing a lot less solitaire, which says something, I think.
Something good.
Something about being a little more comfortable in my own skin, even to the point where my thoughts sit down for a second. They stay and it’s not such bad company all the time anymore. Used to be that they were a lot like the tadpoles that my brothers and I would catch down at our stream: darting wildly about in the bucket, looking for a way out but only finding a terrible monotony. Just trapped anyway you try it.
And if I were to stay with this bucket analogy, considering that I just called myself a bucket, I would like to say that, for tonight at least, the bucket is filled with musical notes. And something that looks like hope, though I’m afraid to look very close.
It’s like the way you trust a camera to take a kinder picture when it’s a little further away from your face. There’s a chance, then, that it won’t capture the parts of you that make you so grateful for make-up. For make believe. For make overs. For make it stop, please God, make this stop.
But I think those same parts–those same imperfections or wounds or whatever it is that makes us hurt ourselves and others so badly, so quickly, so easily–is also and undeniably responsible for making music. For making our songs the questions that we are afraid to voice. And though the answers may never come, one day we’ll feel a little freer and then maybe we’ll feel good and answered anyway.
*This is what we call our Jam Out. It started a little by accident because Shane was playing this on the guitar while James walked into the room and asked if we could start singing about him. So I did. And, though the lyrics have morphed into something else entirely, James still calls the song ‘his song’ and I am really okay with that.
**Please note that right when I sing the lyric, Baby, let’s go, a guy and a girl decide to take me literally and leave at that moment. I think it’s funny. I wonder if I should change the lyric to, Baby, let’s stay, so as to keep our audience with us while we sing our songs.
***Ian is the one who is playing the djembe so fabulously here. Oh, and he’s Shane’s brother.
