In my life there is a marriage between creative thought and music. Most likely this started as a young kid while creativity was in abundance and Mtv was brand new and strictly forbidden in my house. But in my rock 'n roll rebellious ways we would sneak off to watch the top 10 videos to see if Stryper could dethrone the kings Bon Jovi (how could God not like a song titled "Livin' on a Prayer"). So we would ride bikes singing loud about the 4th grade heart-breakers who "gave love a bad name" and how bad we were that we were wanted "Dead or Alive". We wore our denim coats with a wife beater wishing we had hair like down the middle of our backs with poofy bangs. It was our rocker dreams lived out with drums made out of ice cream buckets. Yes, I am child of the 80's. C'mon girls - admit your secret Madonna wardrobe you rocked out...
While on more than one occasion I have been told music is not in my future - including 5th grade band teacher, lead guitarist from Third Day, and now Grammy and Dove winning producer Nathan Chapman. So I am grown enough now to admit I am never going to make it in L.A. or even Nashville, what it does not change is that I have a song. I love what psalmist David wrote - "sing a new song unto the Lord." Thank you David for permission to not clap on beat - not on the 2 or 4, but closer to one and three quarter and maybe two and five-eighths.
I think we all have a little Taylor Swift inside of us: the want to take our life experiences and put them to melody. While most of the world does not have the talent to make stories about broken hearts and broken bones into record breaking records, I think there is something freeing in finding the melody of your life. My songs spill out not in three and half minutes smash hits, but sometime in 40 minute messages to crowds of people. Sometimes it is in the written randomness of this blog. But it is my expression.
While somewhere inside me there still the desire to rock out like Jon Bon Jovi - I have accepted that my songs may never make the radio...

No comments:
Post a Comment