HAS MOVED!!!

It was time for a change of scenery! It has been fun, but with so many changes in my life: newly married, new house, new job, new ventures….it was time!

CLICK HERE!

The Face of San Fran

 

So Close….

            It is a very surreal feeling to find yourself two days from the most life-changing day of your existence. To have every detail set in place and every person on the way to get where they need to be, all to bring about such a life -altering event.

 

In two days, I am getting married.

In two days, I am marrying my best friend, the most amazing gift that I never thought I would actually find.

 

I have dreamed of this day ever since I was a little girl, every year the dress would change or the choice of colors, but two things remained the same. I would marry my best friend and I would be hopelessly in love.

 

Many decisions and choices in my life seemed to push this day further and further away from my reality, until one fateful day, I met the man I would spend the rest of my life with. At the most unexpected time, when I felt so restless in the place where my feet stood, love showed its true face. Neither of our lives have ever been the same.

 

We have packed our boxes to begin our new lives. All of the arrangements have been made and the people are beginning to filter in for the day when we start our new lives.

 

I cannot believe that I am so close.

I never thought I would see this wonderful day. 

The End of an Era

Almost eight years I have spent here, with a few in between where I was in the northwest. Now it is time for that era in my life to end. A few Sundays ago, I played my last set at Good Shepherd Church. If it wasn’t for the experiences I’ve had within these walls, so much of what I do would not be possible. It was bittersweet, yet at the same time, so much has changed and I must go. 

 

 

Let the Parties Begin….

These are from wedding shower #1. All I can say is that I am amazingly blessed.  

Practice

Fruit

Earlier this week, I walked into the place in which I have grown so accustomed to. Within those four walls, I have found so many things within the course of my last few years of breaking, discovering, healing, and sometimes even breaking again. The aged bricked walls are lined with many memories, many triumphs, and many defeats. They are reminiscent of the years when I was so on fire, yet also of the years I walked away only to return broken and battered. Within that church, I found so much of myself. I turned the key to the door of my office and was met by a mess of chord charts, guitars, cables, mics; all scattered about carelessly, as an unkempt mess of chaos tossed in there by numerous musicians. Suddenly I went into a frenzied hour of organizing, throwing out, putting away, and cleaning up. Once I could see the actual top of my desk, I sat down and took a moment to breathe. So many things overwhelmed me within that forsaken moment; so many things flooded my existence that I hadn’t felt any many years. The life I felt breathed back into my bones was something that my own apathetic tendencies had shoved in to a darkened corner for the past few years of my life.

The frenzy within the chaos reminded me of a couple of years ago, back when I felt far more young and innocent than I do now, far more naive, and far more in love with the church that I had grown up in. I was taken back to the nights when I would come and organize the stage for the music the next day, arranging everything in its place, printing out the chord charts, praying over what was to come, anticipating all that we would experience in the presence of God. I lived and breathed within these walls. It was what I was. It was the thing that I had always so longed to be.

I don’t really feel that drive as much as I would like lately. I have to fight for it. I am stuck in between two different churches, being a part of both, and wearing myself out. I’m sick of the routine, of playing the same four chords day in and day out. Where is our drive? Where is our thirst? Where is the young, unbridled passion that we once possessed? I am so incredibly sick of simply playing church. Of walking in every weekend or every Thursday, setting up our equipment, playing through three to five predictable songs, praying, and then leaving. This is not what I originally thought I was signing up for. Yet, in my busyness and the chaos of my life, somehow I have become alright with the idea of settling for just that.

This must change. I don’t know how, yet. All I know, is that God created two different types of people in this world. The pastors and the artists. Both are called to work within the church. Both are the key to bringing about change, growth, and freshness.

Unless we have three things: the word, worship, and community….nothing will live and breathe as it was created to. I’m involved in far too many things that are focusing on only one or two of these things. And it is for that reason that we are feeling so lifeless and apathetic, constantly striving and doing, doing and striving….yet where is the fruit? 

 

Where is it?

Living for the Weekend…

After working full time at a dental office throughout the week and talking to people about how much they owe us for dental work and the fact that their insurance company hardly covers anything…

the weekend becomes a much needed thing.

I love the weekend.

The past few weekends have been filled with some much needed, very fun things.

First off….

Rainy nights, wine, and being surrounded by keyboards.

Priceless.

Last weekend the FOCOMA (Ft Collins Music Association) had their 2nd annual Peer Awards Night. Musicians vote on musicians and get together for a party and awards night. We found out that we were on the ballot about a week ahead of time. I was up for Female Singer/Songwriter. Ryan was in the Indie category. Matt and the Nurses were also in two categories. It was a blast. It’s great to feel community within this ever growing music scene in Ft. Collins.

And to top it all off, the same night, the great David Bazan played a show at Everday Joe’s.

Have I mentioned that I love the weekends?

Here’s to Monday tomorrow.

The Nurses

This is one of the bands that I have the awesome opportunity to be a part of. Good guys, good music.

Please check us out!

The Nurses

Discouragement

I feel a tinge of discouragement running through my veins. A torture-filled symphony filling the caverns of my soul that were once overflowing, yet now are found empty and echo-filled, lifeless, numb. I feel drained of the creative breath that I so long for. It is as if time has stopped. Or at least the time in which my dreams have dwelt in the past. My realities are swiftly passing by, with every blink; yet remain crippled through every mundane moment that shoots past my weary eyes. They have become some blurry, my vision so unclear. I now possess the innate ability to flee from every aspect of focusing only to dwell in the craziness of my procrastination and laziness.

This must be defeated. This battle must be fought and must be won. Victory is the only option or this creative life shall surely die away into nothingness. I’m sick and tired of the lists, of the worthless to-do’s that never gully get done. I have no excuse. There is enough time within my day. I waste so much time due to my own sheer laziness or dwelling in the other extreme of keeping myself busy enough that my soul becomes satisfied with auto-pilot. Numbness ensues. I know that I am the only one that stops me. What else do I know? Two things. That I was made to love and that I was made to create. Music. People. Art. I must not give up within this journey. Even if day in and day out, I must force myself out of bed and to my work desk, to speak to people of all things dental and finance, if only to carry the hope within me that the creative lies on the other side of the work day. Creativity. Creative freedom. Every moment within that realm counts far more than I often realize. Every detail and minute bears the weight of all the moments that will fall after it.

It must not be about “making it” or “getting my stuff out there.” That should never be my intended goal. But, will I be able to look back someday upon my life and marvel at all of the people I met along the way, all of the moments that were captured in every photograph, and all of the songs that we etched into the sound waves over the years? My goals are not easy. They are not simple. I know very well that I will not awake tomorrow and have it all figured out and set in the course I would desire. I must start small. If I don’t, I know that I will hardly even begin. I mustn’t get discouraged. This path is not for the faint of heart. And it is what I have chosen.

One day at a time. One moment at a time. One detail at a time.

Quitting is never an option.