Everyday a pendant hangs from my necklace that says, "There is no fear in love," an excerpt from one of my favorite bible verses (1John 4:18). You see, I need this reminder to help me fight my worst enemy- myself. I am my greatest obstacle and barrier to success. If I have a goal or ambition, I have always found a loophole or risk involved to help talk me out of stepping out of my comfort zone. It's an instinctual defense mechanism in overdrive that has always been my greatest foe.
However, what I am learning each and every day is that I have within me the strength to be more. If I have a desire to accomplish a feat, be it big or small, then I have some level of dedication and love for it. Where there is love, there shall be no fear, for fear involves torment (as the Bible verse later goes on to say). The hangover from letting go of a dream is proof of that turmoil. There is truly no greater disappointment than that which one can feel for themselves while viewing the road never traveled and wondering what it may have lead to. Inasmuch, there is also no greater feeling than reaching the end of a windy path that started in a scary wood, only to pour out to a beautiful, open meadow that no one else had ever laid eyes on.
In four months time, I have slowly forced fear to loosen its grasp on my throat. I have left a secure position at work because I had reached a stalemate and was no longer happy. I let myself take a leap of faith and take a position in the field I have been trained in and am content in my work now. That decision transformed my happiness in the workplace. I have since also fought tooth and nail for what I love, even when it would have been easier to let go. True love knows no bounds and I am learning that though it may not always be easy, it is always, always, worth the effort. My dream of becoming a music journalist has somehow sprouted in a small, yet not insignificant way. If this passion never takes flight farther than it has today, I can rest happy, knowing that my love for this art has been shared in a way that I am proud of. In a matter of days, I will be throwing caution to the wind-literally- and jumping off a mountain with a professional paraglider, trusting that our parachute will catch at the right moment.I've never been so frightened and excited in anticipation!
The best part in all of this- I'm not afraid anymore. I may have moments of doubt or concern, but my heart has matured and helped me realize that what I was most at risk for was missing out on life itself. No more standing in the background and admiring from afar. I want in, rain or shine, thunder, lightning, or snow. I'm all in. I'm madly in love with this life and I've been told that perfect love casts out fear (the body of that perfect verse). With God by my side, and perfect love in my heart, what can stand against me?
Nothing.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Justin Young Breaks It Down
Anticipation is a funny thing. It tends to force you into forming lofty expectations for that which you are awaiting. I realized this as I entered the dimly lit, modernly adorned pizza joint that reeked of glorious vegetarian pies. I was buzzing with butterflies in my stomach for what was to come, and looking for a good buzz from the local cider on tap as I found a table in the corner with my good friend. We sat down and my heart stepped things up a notch, reflecting my nervousness as I realized I was about to witness a performance that I had been hoping to see for four years.
But let's back up for a second so I can explain where this all began...
It was probably in 2009 when I was really deep into seeking out new artists that weren't mainstream. I can't rightly recall what brought me there, but I somehow stumbled across Justin Young's myspace page. He was a soulful acoustic artist with a whole lot of Hawaii streaming through his veins. I remember really loving that he had a very distinct sound that was a compilation of what appeared to be influence from his home state, and really rich, almost tangible soul. I hadn't heard anything along the lines of what he was doing and I gradually checked out more and more of his music over the years, always holding on to a glimmer of hope that he would come to my area for a show. Although that particular dream faded over time, my appreciation for Justin's style of music never did.
To make a longer story shortish, Justin finally made it to my area and I couldn't make the show. As completely bummed as I was for the misfortune, I was relieved to find that less than a year later, he'd be back and I'd have a chance to make it this time.
As the one hundred or so other people began to settle in their seats and have their pizzas brought to their table, I bantered with my friend a bit to escape my nerves as we waited for the show to start. In a matter of minutes, Justin came on stage with his only companion- an acoustic guitar. His relaxed demeanor seemed to kind of create the mellow mood you expect from a concert such as this. For anyone who has never experienced island music live, the one thing you need to know is that there is no place more carefree than where you are in that moment. That's so much of why I love anything with an island twist, live, it's incredible.
Hearing songs that I'd listened to so many times in my car or at home was as surreal, as it always is at a live show. Justin's vocals were impressively clean and he made the entire process look effortless. I've seen artists that either love what they're doing or are in love with what they are doing, and the difference is palpable in their performance. Justin was of the latter category. I got the feeling that whether he was in front of one or ten thousand people, he would have given the same solid show, because it's what he seems passionate about. There was a sense of synergy between him and his instruments that translated into a language all it's own. For me, the highlight of his song choice was most definitely Break It Down- a tune for the broken hearted that just refuse to give up. Another really memorable moment was hearing Puzzle Pieces, because there seemed to be a level of significance with it particularly. Of course, a great cover now and again is never a bad move, if done well. I was quite pleased to have Leaving On A Jetplane be the last song Justin filled the air with before closing out the experience I'd so long awaited.
Justin's performance ended, leaving me fulfilled as a music lover, and completely ready for the show to come with Anuhea, another amazing artist from Hawaii. (Her concert is a review all it's own, so stay tuned.) Considering I'd wanted for so long just to let Justin know how much I appreciate his music, I knew that this was likely one of my only opportunities. Not wanting to fangirl, and being more nervous than I ever should have been as a 25 year old grown woman, I made sure to finish my cider and waited until a little courage surfaced. A good twenty minutes later, the flocks of college girls getting pictures with Justin had settled back in to see Anuhea, who had just gotten the party started with some heavy reggae/island jams. Feeling her grooves, and having just enough gumption to say hello, I decided to check out the merch table where Justin was hanging out.
I picked out a cute Anuhea tank and Justin's new album, Makai, which I had yet to hear in its completion. More excited than I would have been pre-cider, I gladly used my card to pay for the merch and signed the dotted line with my finger (since it was attached to an iPhone), which for some reason was pretty funny right about then. A little sheepishly, I asked if Justin could sign my album, to which I was told that of course he could, and he even had a pen. How convenient. The short and sweet speech I'd always wanted to relay to Justin swirled around in my head as I found myself approaching him. My first thought was ,"Wow, he's surprisingly tall!" shortly followed by ,"Crap, what do I say?" I was trying desperately to convey myself as the kind of person who comes to a show for the music, not the musician, if you catch my drift. That was the truth, though, and why I waited to talk to him until that moment. It's often difficult as a married woman who just loves music, to attend shows without feeling that you're boxed in the same category as the less than savory fans with pointed motives. You know, the uh, well... ok I'll just say it, groupies. I hate that word, but they're everywhere at every show. It's always been about the music for me and I go out of my way to separate myself from those throngs of fame seeking chicas.
I'd like to say that we had a complex conversation about music, or the venue, or even about his tour, but my smart assery got the best of me. Instead of letting him know that his music made me appreciate a whole new genre of music and delve deeper into acoustic soul music, I complimented his uncanny ability to open my album plastic in one swipe. How dashing of me! Of course there was the run of the mill, "You were really great, I'm so glad you came here..." comment, but I immediately regretted it as it spewed from my mouth, even if it was true. Way to be generic, girl. So Justin, if you're reading this, that awkward chick in the brown shirt and skinny jeans is always that awkward, but truly appreciated your performance and music. Thanks for making Oregon a priority, it was a great experience.
As all good things must, the show ended and my friend and I were left with memories of only moments prior that will be with us for years to come. I chalk this up as yet another step in my musical pilgrimage, may it never end.
But let's back up for a second so I can explain where this all began...
It was probably in 2009 when I was really deep into seeking out new artists that weren't mainstream. I can't rightly recall what brought me there, but I somehow stumbled across Justin Young's myspace page. He was a soulful acoustic artist with a whole lot of Hawaii streaming through his veins. I remember really loving that he had a very distinct sound that was a compilation of what appeared to be influence from his home state, and really rich, almost tangible soul. I hadn't heard anything along the lines of what he was doing and I gradually checked out more and more of his music over the years, always holding on to a glimmer of hope that he would come to my area for a show. Although that particular dream faded over time, my appreciation for Justin's style of music never did.
To make a longer story shortish, Justin finally made it to my area and I couldn't make the show. As completely bummed as I was for the misfortune, I was relieved to find that less than a year later, he'd be back and I'd have a chance to make it this time.
As the one hundred or so other people began to settle in their seats and have their pizzas brought to their table, I bantered with my friend a bit to escape my nerves as we waited for the show to start. In a matter of minutes, Justin came on stage with his only companion- an acoustic guitar. His relaxed demeanor seemed to kind of create the mellow mood you expect from a concert such as this. For anyone who has never experienced island music live, the one thing you need to know is that there is no place more carefree than where you are in that moment. That's so much of why I love anything with an island twist, live, it's incredible.
Hearing songs that I'd listened to so many times in my car or at home was as surreal, as it always is at a live show. Justin's vocals were impressively clean and he made the entire process look effortless. I've seen artists that either love what they're doing or are in love with what they are doing, and the difference is palpable in their performance. Justin was of the latter category. I got the feeling that whether he was in front of one or ten thousand people, he would have given the same solid show, because it's what he seems passionate about. There was a sense of synergy between him and his instruments that translated into a language all it's own. For me, the highlight of his song choice was most definitely Break It Down- a tune for the broken hearted that just refuse to give up. Another really memorable moment was hearing Puzzle Pieces, because there seemed to be a level of significance with it particularly. Of course, a great cover now and again is never a bad move, if done well. I was quite pleased to have Leaving On A Jetplane be the last song Justin filled the air with before closing out the experience I'd so long awaited.
Justin's performance ended, leaving me fulfilled as a music lover, and completely ready for the show to come with Anuhea, another amazing artist from Hawaii. (Her concert is a review all it's own, so stay tuned.) Considering I'd wanted for so long just to let Justin know how much I appreciate his music, I knew that this was likely one of my only opportunities. Not wanting to fangirl, and being more nervous than I ever should have been as a 25 year old grown woman, I made sure to finish my cider and waited until a little courage surfaced. A good twenty minutes later, the flocks of college girls getting pictures with Justin had settled back in to see Anuhea, who had just gotten the party started with some heavy reggae/island jams. Feeling her grooves, and having just enough gumption to say hello, I decided to check out the merch table where Justin was hanging out.
I picked out a cute Anuhea tank and Justin's new album, Makai, which I had yet to hear in its completion. More excited than I would have been pre-cider, I gladly used my card to pay for the merch and signed the dotted line with my finger (since it was attached to an iPhone), which for some reason was pretty funny right about then. A little sheepishly, I asked if Justin could sign my album, to which I was told that of course he could, and he even had a pen. How convenient. The short and sweet speech I'd always wanted to relay to Justin swirled around in my head as I found myself approaching him. My first thought was ,"Wow, he's surprisingly tall!" shortly followed by ,"Crap, what do I say?" I was trying desperately to convey myself as the kind of person who comes to a show for the music, not the musician, if you catch my drift. That was the truth, though, and why I waited to talk to him until that moment. It's often difficult as a married woman who just loves music, to attend shows without feeling that you're boxed in the same category as the less than savory fans with pointed motives. You know, the uh, well... ok I'll just say it, groupies. I hate that word, but they're everywhere at every show. It's always been about the music for me and I go out of my way to separate myself from those throngs of fame seeking chicas.
I'd like to say that we had a complex conversation about music, or the venue, or even about his tour, but my smart assery got the best of me. Instead of letting him know that his music made me appreciate a whole new genre of music and delve deeper into acoustic soul music, I complimented his uncanny ability to open my album plastic in one swipe. How dashing of me! Of course there was the run of the mill, "You were really great, I'm so glad you came here..." comment, but I immediately regretted it as it spewed from my mouth, even if it was true. Way to be generic, girl. So Justin, if you're reading this, that awkward chick in the brown shirt and skinny jeans is always that awkward, but truly appreciated your performance and music. Thanks for making Oregon a priority, it was a great experience.
As all good things must, the show ended and my friend and I were left with memories of only moments prior that will be with us for years to come. I chalk this up as yet another step in my musical pilgrimage, may it never end.
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