Recording Hammer & Wire, Part 4
10/20/11 12:55
[This
is a continuation from my previous blogs,
documenting the recording of my new solo piano
CD, hammer & Wire.]
…and I pound the piano in frustration again. Yes, I have no self control, apparently.
I’ve been recording pieces for my new CD, Hammer & Wire for a couple days now, and I have discovered that it’s been just long enough since my last recording session for me to forget how naked one is in when those microphones are turned on. (Sorry to put that image in your head, BTW.) I have practiced the snot out of these pieces over the last few weeks, and I’ve felt really good about them, only to find how sloppy I really am when the record light turns on.
Why is that? Honestly, I know that I am doubting myself. Doubting the quality of my work. Doubting my ability to play this music. Doubting that anyone will care when it’s all said and done. I think I like the idea of people listening to my music, but actually taking the steps to make these musical ideas permanent, to allow others to judge them, to put my neck on the block, has me fearful.
I think too much about the end result, of what people might think. There’s that voice that says: “Why go to all this effort? Your life is fine without this. Just do what you’re already doing and leave this stuff to the pros.” And then I think I recognize that voice. (“Get behind me,” indeed…)
I’m actually doing what I’ve always wanted to do: Music. I just find it funny that as I get older, I still like the “idea” of making my living with music better than actually putting in the work required to do so. Or at least to do it to the best of the abilities that God has given me. When I get this way, I’m more than a little like the people we shake our heads at in the American Idol auditions. I want the “stardom” without the work.
Yet, I love this music, and I can’t wait for people to hear it. I just want them to hear it played well.
And then I ran across Eugene Peterson’s interpretation of Psalm 127:
“If God doesn't build the house, the builders only build shacks.
If God doesn't guard the city,
the night watchman might as well nap.
It's useless to rise early and go to bed late,
and work your worried fingers to the bone.
Don't you know he enjoys
giving rest to those he loves?”
Is it possible to rest in my work? Is it possible to trust God to work through me, to have His way? Is it still possible to feel his pleasure as I play these compositions? If He has given the gift, then I want to use it. But not in guilt or duty, but in pleasure and worship. I love to play these pieces when the stupid record light isn’t on. I need to find that place and enjoy this music again, so that those listening next month, next year, next decade, can also feel God’s pleasure, as well as my own. But finding that joy requires work. Hard work.
It’s time to quit fantasizing and hit record again.
And again, if necessary…
soli deo gloria
If you'd like to keep up on my music and events, join my mailing list at:
http://www.neilpatton.net/contact/contactform.php
…and I pound the piano in frustration again. Yes, I have no self control, apparently.
I’ve been recording pieces for my new CD, Hammer & Wire for a couple days now, and I have discovered that it’s been just long enough since my last recording session for me to forget how naked one is in when those microphones are turned on. (Sorry to put that image in your head, BTW.) I have practiced the snot out of these pieces over the last few weeks, and I’ve felt really good about them, only to find how sloppy I really am when the record light turns on.
Why is that? Honestly, I know that I am doubting myself. Doubting the quality of my work. Doubting my ability to play this music. Doubting that anyone will care when it’s all said and done. I think I like the idea of people listening to my music, but actually taking the steps to make these musical ideas permanent, to allow others to judge them, to put my neck on the block, has me fearful.
I think too much about the end result, of what people might think. There’s that voice that says: “Why go to all this effort? Your life is fine without this. Just do what you’re already doing and leave this stuff to the pros.” And then I think I recognize that voice. (“Get behind me,” indeed…)
I’m actually doing what I’ve always wanted to do: Music. I just find it funny that as I get older, I still like the “idea” of making my living with music better than actually putting in the work required to do so. Or at least to do it to the best of the abilities that God has given me. When I get this way, I’m more than a little like the people we shake our heads at in the American Idol auditions. I want the “stardom” without the work.
Yet, I love this music, and I can’t wait for people to hear it. I just want them to hear it played well.
And then I ran across Eugene Peterson’s interpretation of Psalm 127:
“If God doesn't build the house, the builders only build shacks.
If God doesn't guard the city,
the night watchman might as well nap.
It's useless to rise early and go to bed late,
and work your worried fingers to the bone.
Don't you know he enjoys
giving rest to those he loves?”
Is it possible to rest in my work? Is it possible to trust God to work through me, to have His way? Is it still possible to feel his pleasure as I play these compositions? If He has given the gift, then I want to use it. But not in guilt or duty, but in pleasure and worship. I love to play these pieces when the stupid record light isn’t on. I need to find that place and enjoy this music again, so that those listening next month, next year, next decade, can also feel God’s pleasure, as well as my own. But finding that joy requires work. Hard work.
It’s time to quit fantasizing and hit record again.
And again, if necessary…
soli deo gloria
If you'd like to keep up on my music and events, join my mailing list at:
http://www.neilpatton.net/contact/contactform.php