"stories to tell" - in retrospect

I was a singer/songwriter in a previous life. I've been looking back on my shortened album, and its utter wisdom, as it has lived a decade of life.

“Stories to Tell.” The idea of recording and releasing an album with that title surfaced when I was still working on my first collection of recordings. That idea….did come true. It did.

Lately I’ve been looking back at that album in retrospect. It turns 10 years old this summer. As an artist, it’s hard not to get cringy when you listen to your own music. My mom has been listening to those songs when I’m in her car, and it has been making me think more about them.

“We’ve all come from somewhere. Ran from the darkness and into the light. We’ve all taken chances. From falling down and living lies. In the times we think we’re living well, that’s not true to most of us, because we all have stories to tell.” I was 15 when I wrote that song, and I wrote it by myself.

For the past year, I have been on the verge of selling the guitar I wrote it on. A few days ago, I opened up that 6-string Seagull, a very light wood front body with a cherry-colored back. I brought it upstairs, trying to clear up the downstairs entry way. I sat on the mid-century style ottoman upstairs and started playing the chords to “Stories to Tell.” After finishing the last chord progression, it really hit me. That song never sounds the same on another guitar. That’s the guitar I wrote it on. That’s the guitar I played on the recording. When you hear that song, you hear my acoustic guitar chops. It rings through the entire song. It’s the base of it. It’s the ground the song stands on. Now I’m leaning more toward not selling it, because I opened that guitar and remembered how good it sounded. I’m glad I opened it again before I actually took it to be sold.

Another song on the album that still resonates with me is “Back to You.” I wrote that song about faith. Trusting in someone bigger than myself who knows the bigger picture of things. How am I supposed to know everything? No one does. That’s impossible.

I’ve also struggled with my faith off and on throughout my life.

During the time I wrote it, I was in a phase of exploring the possibilities of what Christianity could become for me. I would not consider myself religious, but having grown up in Texas, I grew up all around it. As an elementary schooler, my mom was entertaining some then-brand-new spiritual ideas (she grew up Catholic and left organized religion). I had an understanding of them that was not typical of someone at my point in life. My mom was, and still is, way ahead of her time when it comes to these ideas. Given that piece of my life story, it can begin to explain why I felt lonely and “older” than everyone else in my class. ((I was supposed to be “just a kid!”)) That still suffices and still hurts, with some new ways added over time. I still have to work hard to find the pieces of solace within this pain. It’s tiring.

Anyways, I still need to know the lyrics of my own songs to remind me of the bigger picture of life. I wrestle with control and pettiness. I also wrestle with feeling alone, often looking at myself as “separate by default.” I have to work harder to see the commonalities we all have as humans. That’s one thing that this album has taught me over the past decade, or more while writing it.

It’s weird when you look at yourself having written this music, having lived a piece of a dream. Using a gift I truly wanted to use. I enjoyed the journey and its process. The process. Looking back in retrospect, that means a lot to me.