Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Studio Stay

So, we embarked on our fall tour with Ocean is Theory on Saturday morning at 7:00 AM and arrived to our destination in Chattanooga around 9:30 PM. We stayed at the studio where we tracked David's drums for "Home." No pun intended but it sincerely felt like we were coming home. We were greeted by Stephen Nichols, the producer who owns the space. He is a man every person in our band holds in high esteem and regard. Looking as intelligent as ever with coffee cup in hand and a majestic beard both combining together to create an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort.

Over the past two years we have remained in contact. Text messages here and there. He would come out to shows and give honest opinions of our set and ways to improve. I remember talking about writing new music with him and discussing the more "business" related aspect of the industry, at which point he said, "Do not let anyone make you out to be someone you are not. Do what you love and let the chips fall where the lay." There are so few phrases that have stuck with me over these last couple years and this one in particular has worn well. Like the old family photo with just enough dust and wear that it shows signs of endurance and age but still resilient and able to embrace the future. We stumble across it from time to time as we are rearranging our room or setting our glass of water next to it. Yet, it serves as a valiant reminder of where we came from, and it lights future paths.

This morning we sat over coffee discussing production and songwriting and some of our favorite records. While pouring out my heart I ever consistently managed to spill my coffee on his shirt. Tripping over myself to clean him and the table off, I slipped back into my chair as gracefully as possible. We continued sharing stories and philosophy drinking our coffee like it was as necessary as air. As we left, my once heavy heart felt a little lighter. As if it was a huge bag of sand and someone gently cut a slit in the bottom of it to let some pour out. If only the cut were deeper that I might have been completely poured out.

I guess what I mean is that it felt how it must of felt like when the disciple's hung around Jesus and spent time together. True fellowship is rich and sinks deep into the bones and warms up your blood.  Conversations like these will I remember in my gray-headed years. I admire this man. I think he is one of the closest examples of how Jesus Christ Himself requires of us to live. I do not believe I want to be like him as much as I want to know the love that enables him to be as calm and graceful as he is.

We are here on this planet for such a short time. Let's stop being pissed off all the time and love one another. I can't say I left St. Elmo, Tennessee thinking I had it all figured out. I will tell you that I drank a cup of grape juice, ate a piece of bread, wept during an old hymn, dreamed about our next record and poured out my soul to a man who did nothing but encourage me to celebrate the beauty and mystery that is loving God. Thank God for that old family photo. Thank God for the camera that took it and the finger that pressed its button down to freeze it into the historical fabric of time. Looking over my shoulder into yesterday helps me to clearly see that sunrises are in the future, and I am willing to face every valley in between.


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