This song is called "I Wish That You Were Mine," and is copyrighted to me.
Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts
27.10.12
22.10.12
21.10.12
Safe Here
this is a song called "safe here" that i wrote in 2011 and just recorded today with my phone. not the best sound quality - but fun. the song is copyrighted to me.
click the box to listen :)
29.10.11
redemption songs
not too long ago i decided it would be a good idea to put all of the songs i'd written in one place. up until now they've existed in my head and on a ridiculous looking pile of crumbled and stained reclaimed papers that are taking up a lot of space. some of them have changed since i've written them. a couple of them are gone.
so i bought a really pretty notebook and started copying them down. it was a really interesting experience. every song has a story, and every story comes from a place of emotion, experience, and energy. writing them all down brought these back to me as clearly as reliving them.
i stood on the mesa where i watched the sunrise that inspired 'cowboy.'
i saw the view from my fetal crouch on the futon in moab, feeling the pain of a terrible breakup in my chest and throat as the words for 'healing song' trickled through my brain.
i sat halfway up the tuk looking out over the canyonlands belting out the chorus to 'i call your name.'
i listened to the elk and the rattling of the aspen leaves as i composed 'a better dream.'
i laughed with my single-serving hostel friends as i test drove verses for 'protest song.'
there are times when i feel like songwriting and performing are narcissistic exercises. in order to share the music i write, i need to believe that people will actually want to hear it. i need to know that what i do is good enough to put out into the audio universe with the conviction that others should listen and will enjoy. this can be a hard one for me, especially when the songs sit close to my heart. i wonder why someone would even care to know what i am thinking or feeling - especially when out for a beer or cup of coffee and conversation. then again, when i think of the songs i like best, they are usually ones that have some kind of personal meaning to the artist. i love music that conveys something lying close to the core of the person performing it.
since moving to corvallis i've doubled the number of songs i've written. actually, i've doubled them in the past 2.5 months. i find this impressive considering that i've been writing songs for 4 years. i am not sure what it is about the now that leaves me tapping out new tunes, but i am going with it. i feel more confident than ever with the guitar, and i am eager to start working on a stage presence. when i first starting singing with acoustic wave machine i was scared shitless to be on stage. i knew i had the pipes, and i'd been performing since i was very young, but this was an entirely different animal. there is a world between singing in the school musical and getting up behind the mic at a downtown bar. it was SCARY to be up there. i felt naked and exposed even when no one was looking up at us while we played. garrett and bennett kept telling me i had to talk to the audience. it took a year and a pre-show beer, but i got there eventually.
now that i have the guitar in front of me i feel like i am starting back at square one. my insecurity about screwing up while playing, along with the fact that i am still finding my voice, makes it tougher for me to get comfortable. i played a 15 minute set at could 9 a week ago and though i worked hard to keep my eyes open, i did not actually look at the audience. had i done so i don't think i would have been able to play. it's not stage fright so much as anxiety. if i let the anxiety in then i am going to flub the song and i will get even more nervous. my goal is to work on that - to connect with the people i am playing for and share myself with them. right now all i am sharing is the music. i need to get to both in order to be the performer i want to be.
regardless of any struggles, i am really proud of where i have come as a musician. when i moved to utah and left awm i thought that perhaps that was the end of my stint as a stage performer. a year in i realized i missed it so badly that i starting working toward learning guitar. i am so grateful to my friend jim for leaving his acoustic with me for the summer back in 2008. i did not want to purchase a guitar unless i knew i was going to play it. those three months i spent picking out the chords to phish's 'dirt' were tough and rewarding. i still play that song from time to time as a point of nostalgia. when i reunited with bennett at the string summit this year i told him that initially i regretted leaving idaho and the band, but now i realize that if i hadn't i would still only be a vocalist. not that this is a bad thing, but i love being able to identify as a singer-songwriter. i love the feel of the guitar strings under my fingers and i am proud of my callouses. just another reminder that the things we think are no good often just have to be turned on their ear and they are exactly what we need.
the other day my roommate brian told me that he was putzing around the house singing a song over and over, and then realized that the song was one of mine. i also was invited to play again at cloud 9 - this time for a 30 minute set. though certainly i am nowhere near being some kind of accomplished musician (and i am not even sure that is my goal), i count myself lucky to be able to share myself and my music. i am pleased that people enjoy it, and feel excited that i get positive feedback. i am looking forward to where this journey takes me next.
so i bought a really pretty notebook and started copying them down. it was a really interesting experience. every song has a story, and every story comes from a place of emotion, experience, and energy. writing them all down brought these back to me as clearly as reliving them.
i stood on the mesa where i watched the sunrise that inspired 'cowboy.'
i saw the view from my fetal crouch on the futon in moab, feeling the pain of a terrible breakup in my chest and throat as the words for 'healing song' trickled through my brain.
i sat halfway up the tuk looking out over the canyonlands belting out the chorus to 'i call your name.'
i listened to the elk and the rattling of the aspen leaves as i composed 'a better dream.'
i laughed with my single-serving hostel friends as i test drove verses for 'protest song.'
there are times when i feel like songwriting and performing are narcissistic exercises. in order to share the music i write, i need to believe that people will actually want to hear it. i need to know that what i do is good enough to put out into the audio universe with the conviction that others should listen and will enjoy. this can be a hard one for me, especially when the songs sit close to my heart. i wonder why someone would even care to know what i am thinking or feeling - especially when out for a beer or cup of coffee and conversation. then again, when i think of the songs i like best, they are usually ones that have some kind of personal meaning to the artist. i love music that conveys something lying close to the core of the person performing it.
since moving to corvallis i've doubled the number of songs i've written. actually, i've doubled them in the past 2.5 months. i find this impressive considering that i've been writing songs for 4 years. i am not sure what it is about the now that leaves me tapping out new tunes, but i am going with it. i feel more confident than ever with the guitar, and i am eager to start working on a stage presence. when i first starting singing with acoustic wave machine i was scared shitless to be on stage. i knew i had the pipes, and i'd been performing since i was very young, but this was an entirely different animal. there is a world between singing in the school musical and getting up behind the mic at a downtown bar. it was SCARY to be up there. i felt naked and exposed even when no one was looking up at us while we played. garrett and bennett kept telling me i had to talk to the audience. it took a year and a pre-show beer, but i got there eventually.
now that i have the guitar in front of me i feel like i am starting back at square one. my insecurity about screwing up while playing, along with the fact that i am still finding my voice, makes it tougher for me to get comfortable. i played a 15 minute set at could 9 a week ago and though i worked hard to keep my eyes open, i did not actually look at the audience. had i done so i don't think i would have been able to play. it's not stage fright so much as anxiety. if i let the anxiety in then i am going to flub the song and i will get even more nervous. my goal is to work on that - to connect with the people i am playing for and share myself with them. right now all i am sharing is the music. i need to get to both in order to be the performer i want to be.
regardless of any struggles, i am really proud of where i have come as a musician. when i moved to utah and left awm i thought that perhaps that was the end of my stint as a stage performer. a year in i realized i missed it so badly that i starting working toward learning guitar. i am so grateful to my friend jim for leaving his acoustic with me for the summer back in 2008. i did not want to purchase a guitar unless i knew i was going to play it. those three months i spent picking out the chords to phish's 'dirt' were tough and rewarding. i still play that song from time to time as a point of nostalgia. when i reunited with bennett at the string summit this year i told him that initially i regretted leaving idaho and the band, but now i realize that if i hadn't i would still only be a vocalist. not that this is a bad thing, but i love being able to identify as a singer-songwriter. i love the feel of the guitar strings under my fingers and i am proud of my callouses. just another reminder that the things we think are no good often just have to be turned on their ear and they are exactly what we need.
the other day my roommate brian told me that he was putzing around the house singing a song over and over, and then realized that the song was one of mine. i also was invited to play again at cloud 9 - this time for a 30 minute set. though certainly i am nowhere near being some kind of accomplished musician (and i am not even sure that is my goal), i count myself lucky to be able to share myself and my music. i am pleased that people enjoy it, and feel excited that i get positive feedback. i am looking forward to where this journey takes me next.
18.6.09
cowboy
a bit ago i was on a training for work and my co-staff decided she wanted to do a sunrise ceremony for the crew. we woke them early and climbed up on top of the bench, dodging prickly pear and juniper, to gaze out over the henry mountains. we stood in silence as the sun rose orange and pink over the blue peaks and dusty grey cliffs. a line came to my head.
the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound...
i could almost hear it...the low sizzle of the sun grating against the reef, the swish of its rays cutting through the wind, the hum of its warmth pressing on my face. it was thundering in my ears without making a sound.
closing my eyes i wondered who would be out here...who would see such a sight before the machines came out to grade the roads. before there was pavement and bed and breakfasts and ranches and atv's out here in this wild landscape. i thought of the native people, the settlers, the cowboys.
cowboy.
what an amazing icon - the hero and villian of the west. tough and kind and wild and tamed all at the same time. how many had been right where i was? how many had seen the sunrise like i had?
i am no cowboy.
who am i?
what ties me to this image? i see him there - dusty, strong. what i feel is a yearning. i want him. i want him with me.
the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound
he stands there on the mesa with the sagebrush all around
his feet are shod in leather like the skin upon his face
unnaturally fitting is his presence in this place
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
my tears they fall like raindrops on the shattered desert ground
arresting dusty hoofbeats as the cattle mill around
my breaths like gentle breezes ruffling his feathered hair
wet with sweat beneath the stetson i gave him to always wear
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
the night it falls with whispers of the stars far overhead
there's a blanket for his pillow and another for his bed
by the campfire he lies quiet with an aching in his bones
and he knows it's my heart calling telling him to come back home
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound...
i could almost hear it...the low sizzle of the sun grating against the reef, the swish of its rays cutting through the wind, the hum of its warmth pressing on my face. it was thundering in my ears without making a sound.
closing my eyes i wondered who would be out here...who would see such a sight before the machines came out to grade the roads. before there was pavement and bed and breakfasts and ranches and atv's out here in this wild landscape. i thought of the native people, the settlers, the cowboys.
cowboy.
what an amazing icon - the hero and villian of the west. tough and kind and wild and tamed all at the same time. how many had been right where i was? how many had seen the sunrise like i had?
i am no cowboy.
who am i?
what ties me to this image? i see him there - dusty, strong. what i feel is a yearning. i want him. i want him with me.
the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound
he stands there on the mesa with the sagebrush all around
his feet are shod in leather like the skin upon his face
unnaturally fitting is his presence in this place
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
my tears they fall like raindrops on the shattered desert ground
arresting dusty hoofbeats as the cattle mill around
my breaths like gentle breezes ruffling his feathered hair
wet with sweat beneath the stetson i gave him to always wear
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
the night it falls with whispers of the stars far overhead
there's a blanket for his pillow and another for his bed
by the campfire he lies quiet with an aching in his bones
and he knows it's my heart calling telling him to come back home
oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on
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