What Mary knew

I'm feeling the need to set something straight. Every Christmas, this sort of thing starts floating around Facebook, collecting tons of likes and emphatic agreements:

I'm referring, of course, to the song "Mary, Did You Know?" It's a beautiful song (the a capella arrangements, at least), one that is dear to my heart. It's one of the first songs I learned as a Trouvere, and also one of the first I sang with my mom and sisters.

So I admit, I get a little defensive when people roll their eyes and say, "Of course Mary knew."

Because when you stop and think about it, how much did Mary really know?

Luke 1:28–33 reads:

And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.

And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.

And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.

And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.

He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David:

And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.

It's all right there in the text—yes, Mary knew she would be the mother of the son of God. She knew he would be great. She knew he would save the world. While every other mother can only hope their child will do great things, Mary had that assurance before her child was even conceived.

But just like with every prophecy, whether it be rooted in scriptures, legend, or epic fantasy, it's impossible to fully understand it when it is first given. Mary continually pondered things in her heart, but her understanding of her divine son came slowly. James E. Talmage puts it this way:

Mary appears never to have fully understood her Son; at every new evidence of His uniqueness she marveled and pondered anew. He was hers, and yet in a very real sense not wholly hers. There was about their relation to each other a mystery, awful yet sublime, a holy secret which that chosen and blessed mother hesitated even to tell over to herself. (Jesus the Christ, pg. 116)

This isn't to rip on Mary in any way. Most people expected the Messiah to be a king and conqueror—how could she have known that her son would have the authority to challenge their religious traditions, walk on water, heal the blind and deaf, save more than just the people he interacted with during his mortal ministry? It basically defies human logic to expect any of these things to happen.

Yes, Mary knew who her child was. But it took some time to fully understand what that meant. "Mary, Did You Know?" is not like that question Harry asked Dumbledore regarding whether he knew Tom Riddle would grow up to be the darkest wizard of all time. The question merely reflects the constant wonder Mary must have felt as she watched her child grow. It's a phenomenon we're still marveling over today, even after 2,000 years.

That question isn't just for Mary. It's for us, too.

My Top 10 playlist (fall 2015)

After weeks of deliberation, my refreshed Top 10 playlist is ready to be discussed. The main theme here is that end-credit song marketing works extremely well on me.

About half of these are dutiful survivors of my last Top 10 playlist, so I won't talk about them in great detail.

1. (Everything I Do) I Do It for You, by Bryan Adams (from Robin Hood). This song made it on a list of Most Cheesy Movie Songs. I wanted to shake my fist at my screen and yell, "How dare you trivialize the most romantic song ever written!" In fact, I might have done that.

2. When You Come Back to Me Again, by Garth Brooks (from Frequency).

3. Brave, by Sara Bareilles.

4. Savior, Redeemer of My Soul, by Vocal Point.

5. Danny Boy, by Vocal Point.

6. The Time of My Life, by David Cook.

7. It's Time, by Imagine Dragons. This is one of those songs I'm incapable of skipping, because it works for all of my moods. And it's a great song.

8. Into the West, by Annie Lennox (from The Return of the King). Every time I feel the need to update my top 10 favorites, this song is always in the mix. After my most recent viewing of The Return of the King, I decided it was time to end the debate regarding whether it was awesome enough to deserve a spot on this list and just put it in its rightful place. It has a beautiful, haunting melody, it's perfectly sing-along-able for my range, and it just makes you feel things.

9. The Call, by Regina Spektor (from Prince Caspian). This song is an absolute heartbreaker, and it's 100 percent perfect for Narnia. The first time I listened to it in my car rather than during the end of the Prince Caspian movie, I realized that it also perfectly captures the feelings in my heart every time I'm going through a major change, or am simply remembering the past. It's so, so good. And did I mention heartbreaking?

10. Go the Distance, by Michael Bolton (from Hercules).

A bold playlist

1. "Anyway," by Martina McBride
2. "What About Now," by Lonestar
3. "Breakaway," by Kelly Clarkson
4. "I Hope You Dance," by Lee Ann Womack
5. "Brave," by Sara Bareilles
6. "Brave," by Hudson Lights (not a remake of the Sara Bareilles version—this is a completely different song)
7. "Go the Distance," by Michael Bolton
8. "Stand," by Rascal Flatts
9. "Defying Gravity," from Wicked
10. "Don't Stop Believin'," by Journey
11. "Live Like You're Dying," by Tim McGraw
12. "Miracles Happen," by Myra
13. "This Is the Moment," from Jekyll and Hyde
14. "Voice of Truth," by Casting Crowns
15. "The Power of One," by Bombshel
16. "On Top of the World," by Imagine Dragons

There are plenty of things you can do while listening to this playlist. Or you can use it as part of your pre-game ritual before you boldly go out and do . . . something.

Song of the Week: Sweet Silver Lining

Sweet Silver Lining, by Kate Voegele

What it's about: Yup, life is a battle sometimes, but there's always that silver lining.

Why I picked it: Because it's been stuck in my head for days.

Best line: "I may be weak but I'm never defeated." Have you ever had someone tell you they admire you for your strength when you feel like you're just surviving, not doing anything heroic? Yeah. That's why I love this song. Sometimes it really helps to stop and acknowledge that you're weak. But the fact that you're not dead yet despite your shortcomings must mean there's a grain of truth to what people are saying about this mysterious strength you can't see in yourself.

Mood trigger: Listen to this song when you're down on yourself and need a little pick-me-up. I actually just created a playlist for exactly that mood, named after this song.

Random Observation: Kate Voegele is one of the many artists I discovered through One Tree Hill. She sings this song at a certain wedding. If you've seen the show, you'll get why it works.

Song of the Week: August End

August End, by Jon Schmidt

What the song's about: Saying good-bye to summer.

Why I picked it: Fall came early this year. Today I put on a jacket before heading to work for the first time since winter reluctantly went into hibernation mode. I wanted to pick a song that had a very Autumn-y feel, so I scrolled through my iPod, hoping a song would jump out at me. Luckily, "August" starts with an A, so I didn't have to search for long.

Best line: My favorite part of the song starts at 1:27 on the video below, and goes to about 1:47. Most of this song is calm and steady, perfect for taking a drive through a canyon or tree-infested street to enjoy the changing leaves, but then 1:27 hits, and it's like you suddenly remember all the wonderful things about fall: a new school year, football season, jackets, hot cocoa—you've heard me make this speech before. I just can't find anything to be be sad about this time of year.

Mood trigger: If you're the summer type, this song will probably make you think of everything you're saying good-bye to—tanning by the pool, weekly barbecues, baseball games, freedom. But if you're the fall type, it'll give you that warm fuzzy feeling that just isn't possible when it's hot outside.

Random observation: This isn't one of my favorite Jon Schmidt songs, so I don't listen to it that often. I'm glad I took the time to give it a listen today, though. Except now I'm bummed that it's not in any of his piano books. Don't you know you're not allowed to release songs without releasing the piano music, too, Mr. Schmidt? You have no idea how much time I've spent scouring the internet for sheet music to some of your songs. Which I would happily pay for, by the way.

Song of the Week: It's Time

It's Time, by Imagine Dragons

What the song's about: Sticking to your values, even when you get burned. Especially when you get burned.

Why I picked it: I finally jumped aboard the Imagine Dragons bandwagon. All of their songs sit on the upper end of the greatness scale, but this one is the best. In my humble opinion.

Best line: "I get a little bit bigger, but then I'll admit I'm just the same as I was. Now don't you understand? That I'm never changing who I am."

I read a lot of book/TV show reviews. Something I've noticed more and more is that whenever a character goes off the rails and starts doing really dumb things, the reviewer will say something like, "It's frustrating, but it's realistic," or, "Now that the character isn't so perfect, I actually like them more."

I get where they're coming from. Characters have to have flaws if they're going to be interesting and relatable. Nobody wants to be around someone who is always perfect, even if they're fictional. But the idea that doing dumb things makes you more realistic, that going through a painful rebellious period is what raises your cool factor—I have a problem with this.

Yes, we all make mistakes, and everyone goes through rough periods where they do things they aren't proud of. But you don't have to reject everything you've been taught to learn important life lessons. You aren't less of a person if you don't have colossal mistakes on your résumé.

Every time I hear the line, "I'm just the same as I was," I want to shout, "In yo face, Hollywood!" The world will do everything it can to beat you down, but it is oh so refreshing when people rise above it. I love a good redemption story as much as anyone else, but we could use more stories about people who make the right decisions at pivotal moments rather than settling for easy, short-term solutions and having to fix things later. 

Mood trigger: This song always makes me feel better when I'm feeling hopeless about something.

Random observation: And don't forget the line "I get a little bit bigger." Every experience changes you, and if you let it, the times when you have to take the lonely road will help you grow the most.

Song of the Week: Friend Like Me

Friend Like Me, by Robin Williams (from Aladdin)

What the song's about: How much more awesome it would be to have a genie as your best friend than a real person.

Why I picked it: Robin Williams has always been one of my favorite actors. He's an immensely talented guy, and my childhood wouldn't have had as many laughs as it did without movies like Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire, Flubber, and Jumanji.

But for me, the Robin Williams genius started with Aladdin, in one of Disney's most clever songs.

Best line: "I'm in the mood to help you dude."

Mood trigger: This is a great song to blast when you need to get some Saturday cleaning done.

Random observation: I couldn't stop cracking up when I looked up the lyrics to this song. Not because they're funny, but because the real lyrics are so different from what my seven-year-old brain thought they were. Even after watching our beloved Disney Sing-Along tapes, I still had no idea what the genie was saying half the time.

Examples (the ones I can remember because I'm still trying not to sing them this way. But I'm positive there were more misinterpretations):

Actual lyrics: Well, Ali Baba had them 40 thieves
My lyrics: Abacadabra and—40 thieves!

Actual lyrics: You got some punch, pizzaz, yahoo, and how
My lyrics: You got some poof [insert your own string of syllables here.] I thought the purpose of this part of the song was to make up your own words; I didn't think he was saying anything that was actually in the dictionary.

Actual lyrics: We pride ourselves on service.
My lyrics: We fried ourselves on purpose.

Actual lyrics: Say what you wish; it's yours, true dish
My lyrics: Say what you wish; it's yours to wish

The only time I remember asking my mom for clarification on the lyrics was when I asked her what a baklava was. Obviously, I got the rest of the song right.




And, since it's two of my sisters' birthdays today, I thought I'd mention a couple of songs that always remind me of them. I tried to pick just one for each, but that was too hard, so I narrowed it down to four each. Which was still hard.

Tiffany

1. "Winter Wind," by Jon Schmidt. This is Tiffany's signature Jon Schmidt song. I've never been able to play it as well as she can. And she made a really cool arrangement of it on the Clavinova that thrills everyone who hears it.
2. "My Sister," by Reba McEntire. I don't know if it's because Tiffany introduced this song to me or because Tiffany is my only older sister, but this song makes me think of her more than my other two sisters.
3. "Everything I Own," by 'N Sync. This was Tiffany's favorite 'N Sync song back in the day. We once made a tape of our favorite moments of each 'N Sync song from their first album. This song had two moments, I think, because we were teenagers and thought Lance's little speech in the middle was hot. But the other moment we wanted to include was the part where Lance sings "everything I own" in that deep voice of his. We were both certain it was in different parts of the song, but we were both wrong. We must have rewinded and fast forwarded the tape (remember when we still had to do that?) for a half hour before we finally found it. I really hope we still have that tape somewhere.
4. "Will You Be There," by Michael Jackson (from Free Willy). We watched Free Willy a lot as kids, and we always had to watch the Michael Jackson music video at the end. Tiffany and I would get into arguments over whether Michael Jackson was a girl or a guy, and several times we went to Mom to settle the disagreement. She never gave us a straight answer.

Kimberly

1. "She's In Love with the Boy," by Trisha Yearwood. Kimberly was a Trisha Yearwood child. I cannot listen to this song without seeing eight-year-old Kimberly belting out the lyrics. Or remembering that time Kimberly and Melissa sang this on karaoke at Grandma and Grandpa Jackson's house, and Aunt Terri had to leave the room to cry.
2. "I'm Wishing/One Song," from Snow White. Kimberly does an amazing Snow White singing voice. Ask her to demonstrate for you some time.
3. "Far Longer than Forever," from The Swan Princess. Kimberly loves The Swan Princess more than anyone I've ever met. And this song was almost the song she and Jeremy danced to at their wedding. If Jeremy's name was Derrick, it probably would have been.
4. "Here's to the Heroes," by the Ten Tenors. This song is so beautiful and powerful I almost float away every time I hear it. Kimberly gets that. One time while listening to it in the car, we discussed at length what it would be like to conduct this song. We concluded that it would involve conductor after conductor passing out from joy. So now when I listen to the song, I always envision dignified conductors dropping like flies, and remember the giggling fest that came from that discussion.

Back on the piano bench again

I've set aside my piano goals to make room for other things many times. In 9th grade it was because of marching band. In college it was because of, well, college. Same for grad school. But when marching band ended, when I came home for the summers, when I graduated, reinserting regular piano practice into my life was the first item on my What I Finally Have Time to Do Now That I'm Free list.

It was never hard to make piano a priority again. It was as easy as spending more time with my family or diving into a new book series.

But something was different after I finished grad school. I wanted to relax, try new things. That desire to play the piano was still there, but it was faint, and there was no immediacy to it. I played a few times, but it didn't feed my soul the way it used to.

After about four months of this, I started to worry that maybe I had "outgrown" my love for the piano. It always bothered me when people equated my quitting piano lessons in 9th grade with quitting piano, as if the lack of formal instruction automatically erased the bond I had been developing for nine years. I didn't quit eating after my parents stopped holding my utensils for me. I didn't quit reading after my teachers stopped drilling me on letters and pronunciation. I could no sooner quit piano than I could stop being tall—it was just part of who I was.

Until it wasn't anymore. I filled my life with other distractions—a new job, social opportunities, books, Netflix—almost as a way to protect myself from the reality that I just didn't want to play anymore.

Maybe that's why I didn't notice at first all the different ways my subconscious groped for other things to fill the hole my piano always occupied. I downloaded songs from iTunes with no restraint. I started talking about music. I even checked out a book from the library solely because it had the word "piano" in it.

I tried to fill my life with music, but it wasn't just music I needed. I needed to feel the tiny muscles in my fingers work to create beautiful sounds. I needed to sit on that piano bench, my left leg tucked under the bench while my right worked the pedal, and let the sounds surround me.

These thoughts ran through my mind as I read The Piano Tuner. It was like the piano in my living room was gently nudging me, saying "Remember me? We used to hang out all the time, especially when you were sad or confused." And finally, for the first time in months, I wanted to jump out of bed and just play. Stop feeling guilty about the neglect, forget about everything, and let my fingers do what they've done since I was seven years old.

So that's what I did, starting with my Hanon exercises. That rush of euphoria I often get when I've gone a while without playing the piano didn't come. Rather, my universe was slowly shifting, righting itself. A much more lasting feeling than euphoria.

And the piano isn't the only thing that has shifted back into its place. I'm writing again. I feel more like the strong, independent woman I like to envision myself as. My problems are still there, but they're so small now I can only see them when I squint.

Sometimes you have to be a little selfish to pursue your hobbies, but I've come to realize I don't like being me as much when I'm not pursuing piano. (And let's face it—as far as I'm concerned, playing the piano is no mere hobby.) Sometimes you have to fight for a little bit of selfishness to make yourself the best person you can be.

Song of the Week: Chasing the Sun

Chasing the Sun, by Sara Bareilles

What the song's about: Trying. Living.

Why I picked it: Sometimes I feel like I'm just living life, but not truly living it. If you were to walk by my gravestone, you might see a nice, short eulogy, but nobody is going to be clamoring to write a biography of my life; it's not interesting enough. Life is just so ordinary sometimes it's hard to remember that it's also precious—every boring bit of it.

This song is a great reminder to not just live between the living and the dead, but to be continually living for something.

Best line: "You said remember that life is not meant to be wasted. So fill up your lungs and just run. But always be chasing the sun." You won't always know what you're living for, but the important thing is to live to the fullest anyway. Live your life so, as Paris Geller so eloquently states, "You'll be able to read an in-depth biography about yourself in later years and not puke."

Mood trigger: When I'm irritable, a lot of inspiring-type songs don't affect me because I am in no mood to be preached to. Even Josh Groban's "Don't Give Up" aria doesn't affect me. This song, though, inspires me to do better even when I just want to wallow. Maybe it's because I can relate to the dead-living feeling. Maybe it's because the message is that you just have to try, which isn't nearly as intimidating as succeeding. Whatever it is, this song makes me want to do a little better at life.

Random observation: Every time Sara says "Queens," I think of how happy all my choir teachers would be with her explosive q.

Introducing the Song of the Week series

A friend of mine recently had a great idea: post his thoughts about feel-good songs on Facebook. I've enjoyed learning about how special songs have touched his life, and the dialogue that has resulted from his posts has been great, too. Music is the other native language we all speak; it brings us together, and I'm a firm believer it's one of the many ways God communicates with us.

So I've decided to play copycat and do a similar thing on this blog. There are a couple of reasons for this.

First, I haven't had the desire, motivation, or heart to write much since I got my master's in creative writing. Ironic, I know. I'm not too worried about it though, because I think it's mostly just burn-out and summer laziness—it'll pass when it passes. But this is the first writing project I've been excited about in months, and unlike many of my other "brilliant" blog ideas, I haven't discarded this one in shame yet after sleeping on it and waking up to my senses. So I'm going to take it and roll with it.

Second, I've always wanted to write about music, but I've never been sure how to do it, exactly. Music communicates perfectly well on its own; trying to put words to its power is often pathetically redundant. So we'll see how this goes.

My plan is to post every Thursday because, well, today is Thursday and I want to get started. I don't know how long I'll keep this up, but I've got a pretty long list of songs already, so unless I get bored, this series should last a while. I'd also like to have a couple categories to discuss every week, to add some consistent variety to the posts. Unlike my friend, though, I won't just be talking about feel-good songs. Anything is fair game: songs that are stuck in my head, songs I can't figure out, songs I've loved since childhood, sad songs, funny songs, chart-topping songs, songs you've probably never heard—you get the picture.

If this isn't your thing, feel free to skip these posts. But if you feel so inclined, please speak up if you have something to say. I'd love to hear your thoughts, suggestions on songs and categories to discuss, and any experiences you'd like to share.

With that, I give you my first song of the week:

Calamity Jane, by Bethany Joy Lenz

What the song's about: Someone who is lost and hurts everyone around her. But redemption is possible because someone still cares about her. (Here are the lyrics.)

Why I picked it: This summer, my go-to source for TV entertainment has been One Tree Hill. It's definitely a guilty-pleasure show, but it surpassed my mediocre expectations, partly because it features two of my favorite things: music and basketball. (And books, to an extent. And there's a Mr. Feeney-like teacher.)

Joy plays my favorite character, and she's also a musician. She has released some of her music through the show, and I became a fan immediately. I'm a soprano-turned-alto, so I admire any singer who can utilize her rich alto tones. "Calamity Jane" was released just this week, and is one of my favorites from this artist.

Best line: "She's lost and she's lonesome and wounds everyone that she's near. But I love her just the same, wicked calamity Jane." This line hits you right where it hurts. I've known people like this, and I don't know which is worse—the hurt you feel when someone you care about hurts you, or the hurt you get watching them hurt.

Mood trigger (still trying to think of a better category name): The lyrics are a bit depressing, but the music has a determined, upbeat feel to it that makes you want to go out there and keep fighting for that person you love, no matter what.

Random observation: Is it possible to have a chocolatey voice? Because the timbre of Joy's voice makes me think of smooth, silky chocolate, the kind you get from a chocolate fountain.

My top 10 playlist (2014)

I'm pretty serious about my Top 10 Playlist. For some reason it's important to me to always know what my 10 most favorite songs are. And because I manage this playlist so protectively, it's a huge deal whenever a song is awesome enough to bump off one of my top ten beloveds. A big enough deal that I want to, say, blog about it.

This playlist has changed many times since I got my first iPod in 2007. (Back then it was mostly sappy love songs.) It's fascinating how personal preferences change over the years—in music, books, hobbies, friends, etc.—and I've always kind of wanted to document my ever-changing Top 10 Playlist in some way.

So here it is: Angie's Top 10 Playlist for summer 2014.

1. "(Everything I Do) I Do It for You," by Bryan Adams
This was my no. 1 song back in 2007, and it hasn't budged since; it's the only song on this playlist to hold its original spot. I love everything about this song, from the opening chord to Bryan Adams' raspy voice to its true-love message. Plus, the music video at the end of Robin Hood romanticized the concept of playing a grand piano in the woods for me long before the Piano Guys got together. In fact, I think I'll add that to my bucket list.

2. "Brave," by Sara Bareilles
My theme for 2014 is "Be Bold," so this song is pretty much my song of the year. Especially since it talks about being brave by doing something I've always been afraid to do: speak up. I listen to this song sometimes before social outings, and it always gives me a little extra oomph to do more than just show up and wait for someone to talk to me.

3. "When You Come Back to Me Again," by Garth Brooks
This is the song that reminds me God loves me. I discovered the Vocal Point version of this song during fall semester 2008, which was one of my hardest semesters. On a particularly rough day, I got in my car, drove to the Provo Temple parking lot, and listened to this song at least 15 times. I felt like I was drowning in a dark ocean of responsibilities and confusion, so the ship-lost-at--sea metaphor was especially powerful to me. The simple reminder that there was a lighthouse watching the lost ship struggle, lighting its way back to safety, was one of the most poignant answers to a prayer I have ever had. It's one of the few songs I devote my full attention to every time I hear it, because God always feels so much closer.

4. "Danny Boy," by Vocal Point
I've always liked this song, but this arrangement is really something else. There's so much to enjoy about it—the harmonies, the emotion, the message, the haunting melody. Listening to it just once is never enough, which is why this is the most-played song on my iPod.

5. "Go the Distance," by Michael Bolton
First off, Michael Bolton has a beautiful voice, even if he is hard to understand sometimes. And, this song inspires me. I also played this song for the Clavinova Festival when I was about 14, so it's got that added nostalgic element to it.

6. "Savior, Redeemer of My Soul," by Vocal Point
Pretty much everything I said about "Danny Boy" applies to this song. Any song that Keith helps arrange and is the lead singer for I'm guaranteed to love. I hope this song is in the next LDS hymnbook.

7. "The Time of My Life," by David Cook
If I ever decide to run a marathon, this song would definitely be on my playlist. I get a burst of energy every time I hear it. I first heard it about the time I graduated from college, and it perfectly described the excitement I felt about my exciting adventures ahead. It still excites me, because it always makes me feel like I'm living the best time of my life right now.

8. "Cowboy Take Me Away," by the Dixie Chicks
Several of the lines from this song came straight from my brain, I swear. When I find that special guy, he is going to listen to this song.

9. "Somewhere in the Middle," by Casting Crowns
A part of me hates this song. It's so frustrating to give up what you want for what God wants for you, sometimes, and this song really whacks you upside the head with that message. But when I'm done rolling my eyes, I love this song because it so perfectly captures a battle I've experienced many, many times.

10. "All for Love," by Bryan Adams
This song doesn't have any profound impact on my life, but I love it anyway.

Vocal Point's biggest (silent) stalker

I haven't been this obsessed with a singing group since the '90s when it was still cool to like 'N Sync. My obsession with Vocal Point began a few years before I started college and increased steadily until I found out they would be singing on the Sing-Off on national television--then my obsession was elevated to freak status. It wasn't really their ascension to fame that got me all excited, but rather that the rest of the world would be able to see why I love this group so much.

I went to their semi-annual Covey Center concert last night and enjoyed every millisecond of it. It did dawn on me, however, that I've become a bit of a Vocal Point stalker. Not one of the annoying/creepy ones that drives by their homes every night or gushes all over the place when I see one of them at my grocery store, but rather the one who faithfully watches every episode of the Sing-Off, who attends their concerts regularly, who has 83 of their songs on her iPod, and who knows which ones are single, which ones are engaged, and which ones are married. During the trivia section of the concert last night, I knew the answer to all of the questions (except for "What is the collective weight of Vocal Point?" though I'm pretty sure they weigh more than 300 pounds . . . )

So even though I've seen everything the current group has to offer, I still can't get enough of them. Acapella is quickly becoming my favorite genre of music, and this group is just so darn fun to watch and listen to. I've never seen a group perform with so much energy and enthusiasm, and sound so freakin' good while they're doing it. It's probably a lot more fun for single girls to watch them though because we can fantasize about marrying one of them some day (and yes, I've picked out which one I want, though I've got two backups just in case it doesn't work out). I certainly seemed to enjoy watching them more than the two married girls I was sitting in between last night. No one else had any trouble holding back sighs, squeaks, and exclamations of awe.

But what really makes Vocal Point awesome, though, is the heart they put into their spiritual songs. Their ridiculous songs like "The Telephone Opera" and "Super Mario" are tons of fun and watching their live performances make me grin so hard my face hurts, but it's songs like "Nearer My God to Thee" and "Savior, Redeemer of My Soul" that touch my heart and speak directly to my soul, filling me with indescribable joy and peace that only good music can bring. More than one of their songs have been my beacon of hope when nothing else in life seemed to make sense.

So, yes, I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm in love with Vocal Point, and I doubt this love affair will end any time soon. I think those 9 hot and talented guys will forever have a place in my heart. Speaking of love, this is what the soundtrack of my life would be using only Vocal Point songs . . .

Opening credits: Stick Shifts and Safety Belts (from Standing Room Only album). I'm off to a good start already--this guy doesn't want to be separated by bucket seats and seat belts.

Waking up: Meowing Off (from Mouthing Off). If this song were my alarm that woke me up every morning, I'm pretty sure my alarm clock would be broken by the end of the week.

Average day: THX Deep Note/20th Century Fox Fanfare (from Nonstop). Oh yeah--my life is so epic that it requires its own theme song.

First date: Praise to the Man (from Nonstop). Apparently the date was a hit.

Falling in love: Home (Michael Buble version from Nonstop). Oh, how cute; we're missing one another from a distance.

Fight scene: It Had Better Be Tonight (from Back in Blue). If I'm smart, I'll kiss the guy before he moves on to someone else.

Breaking up: Summertime (from Grand Slam). Crap. I don't remember what this song's about. Apparently, though, I annoyed the guy one too many times with my games, and we both spent a miserable summertime apart.

Getting back together: She Loves You, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah (from Grand Slam). By the end of the summer, though, the guy's friends/spies are telling him that I clearly haven't moved on because it's obvious that I'm still hung up on him. Why didn't I just give him that one little kiss?

Secret love: Carry On My Wayward Son (from Mouthing Off). Yikes. Maybe that's why I didn't kiss him.

Life's okay: Footloose (from the Sing-Off). Ah, who cares about past mistakes. Let's just dance and pretend everything is okay.

Mental breakdown: Remember When It Rained (from Back in Blue). Of course, pretending something doesn't exist never works because there's always something there to remind you about that time it rained.

Driving: Thank You (from Standing Room Only). Apparently I was grateful for the reminder, though.

Learning a Lesson: You Really Got Me (from the Sing-Off). I go back to the guy, and he says, "You really got me--I thought you were gone for good. That'll teach me not to doubt us."

Deep thought: Primarily Vocal Point (from Standing Room Only). That's when we realize that everything we really need to know we already learned--in Primary.

Flashback: A Pedir Su Mano (from Grand Slam). Have I mentioned that I only speak English?

Partying: I'm Yours (from Back in Blue). Oh man, if Ben Murphy sang this to me, I'd be a goner.

Happy dance: 12 Days of Christmas (from Standing Room Only). It has been decided that we will get married 12 days before Christmas. That definitely calls for a happy dance.

Regretting: Never Say Never (from the Sing-Off). 'Nuff said.

Long night alone: The Way You Look Tonight (from the Sing-Off). Um, if I ever had to part from a guy who sings this the way Jake sings it, then, yes, it would be a very long night alone.

Death scene (why does this have to be a tragic loves story? I refuse to cooperate, I tell you!: Ain't too Proud to Beg (from the Sing-Off). If my guy were about to jump off a cliff, I wouldn't be too proud to beg him not to. Crisis averted.

Closing credits: O Brother, Where Art Thou? Medley (from Standing Room Only). After the honeymoon phase is over and we've emerged from our non-human (a.k.a. newlywed) status, we start to wonder what's up with our families.

God's fingers

After buying a piano over a month ago, I had three main goals I wanted to accomplish: (1) learn new stuff (stretching beyond the wonderful world of Jon Schmidt), (2) strengthen my fingers, and (3) memorize those songs I've been playing for years.

So far, I've done pretty good on #1, great on #2, and not so good on #3, though that hasn't been from lack of trying. I haven't memorized a song on the piano in years, and now I'm remembering why: memorizing is hard, and what's the point if you've always got music with you?

However, I don't always have my music with me, and I'm getting a little sick of only being able to play "Waterfall" when I find myself sitting at a piano with no music. So for the past five weeks, I've been working on "All of Me."

Because I have learned, relearned, and polished this song many times over the last decade, I thought this would be an easy song to kick off my memorization project. I figured that since I've played it thousands of times, I would be able to play it straight through with no music after just a few tries.

Boy was I wrong. What I thought would take a few days at most ended up taking five weeks. Deep down I knew the song by heart, but I just couldn't keep my eyes from the written music where I was safe.

After a few weeks being stuck on the same two pages, I decided to try a different tactic: I would close my eyes and just let my fingers play. And to my surprise, I got through the section without any hesitation. I was then able to move on to the next two pages. Again, at first I couldn't help peaking at the notes every few lines or so, but eventually it was only after I closed my eyes and trusted my fingers that I was able to master those pages and move on to the next two.

It's an odd experience letting your fingers play when your mind is blank. Thoughts like "I sure hope you know what you're doing, because I've forgotten everything about playing the piano" float through your mind, but if you keep trusting in those fingers, they will know what to do.

Last night, I made it through the entire song without the aid of any music for the first time. It wasn't perfect; I bumbled my way through a few parts and I broke a couple of fingernails. And I played most of the song with my eyes closed; every time I opened them, I would get distracted, I would lose the cool connection I had going with my fingers, and I would lose my way completely. It was only when I played the song on blind faith, so to speak, that I was able to make it to the end without trouble.

And let me just say that despite the setbacks, it was well worth the effort memorizing this song.

Much of my progression along my rocky but beautiful path of life has been accompanied by the music I have learned to play on the piano, from the C-major scale to the the masterpieces of classical composers. That music is the loudest during the high times and hard times of my life, and is rarely silent, because whenever I come up short, God's fingers are always there to keep the music going. All it takes is just a little bit of trust.

Meet the missing piece of my soul

Doing the adult thing and moving to the big city into a big-girl apartment proved to be a much more difficult transition than I had anticipated, in ways I wasn’t expecting it to be difficult.

For starters, without my 3+ hours of driving every day, I suddenly had oodles of free time on my hands, and I was also getting more than 5–6 hours of sleep every night. Awesome, right?

Not really. It didn’t take long for me to notice all the holes I had in my life without things like school and family to fill them. I often felt similar to the way I did between graduation and starting a new job: lost and unsure of what my purpose was. Most annoyingly, I knew that I was where I was supposed to be, regardless of how the situation made me feel. So I found myself longing for a piano more than I ever had before. I needed the comfort that those ivory keys bring to my soul. I was an incomplete person in a lot of ways, but I knew a piano would make things more endurable somehow.

Eventually, I decided that it would be okay for me to go a little crazy and buy a piano—I mean, who was going to stop me, anyway? So a few weeks ago, I went into the Piano Gallery after work to “price check.” I was prepared to take out a loan, pay interest, whatever it took to get me a piano within the next few weeks.

Walking into that store was a bit like walking into a library; I instantly got cold chills and what little self-possession I had evaporated into manic excitement. For a moment, I couldn't decide where to begin and just had to breathe it all in.

Thankfully, I had enough possession of my wits to avoid the real pianos; I was here to look at the digital pianos. Some day, when I'm a millionaire and don't have to share walls with random strangers, I am going to have a music room with a grand piano in the middle of it. But until that day, a digital piano will have to do me, as it is much more conducive to apartment living: I can control my volume a little better, I can use headphones to spare my roommate and neighbors (although I can't mute the sound of pounding), and it only requires 2 guys to move it, rather than 8 of the world's strongest men and special piano-moving equipment.

Anyway, I was the only person in the store besides the sales guy, so I was an extra easy target. (I find it somewhat ironic that I spent my whole life thinking that sales people were evil, and then I somehow ended up in marketing. A less intrusive form of manipulation, but effective all the same.) I told him my price range (the amount I had in my savings account, which I was sure wouldn't be enough), and waited for him to inwardly roll his eyes and think, "Great; I guess I won't be ending my day with a big sale today," but he just said, "We have plenty of new pianos in that range" and lead me straight to them.

That pretty much sealed the deal for me. If I still had possession of my smart shopping skills, I would have tried out more than just the 3 he showed me, maybe looked at some of the used digitals to see if I could get a higher quality piano for the same price, but the minute I sat down to test the ones he showed me, I had found home.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a chair, quivering with excitement, as he calculated my bill. I paid a little extra so they would deliver it/put it together, and he said it would be there in two days.

I liked that sales guy.

So, two days later, I was working on my couch, trying to get as much work done as possible while I waited for the delivery guys to get there, because I knew that once that piano was in my room I would be too distracted to read up on electronic health records.

Fate continued to favor me, as the piano fit perfectly in the spot I had designated for it in my room. It may seem a little silly to have a piano in your room, but my room is huge, and my roommate is watching TV almost constantly, and I've learned from personal experience that the TV and the piano should be as far apart as possible. Besides, I've always fantasized about having a piano in my room. It's funny which dreams end up coming true. Actually, I had a dream once that we were vacationing in a huge mansion, and I got this awesome bedroom that had a gourmet kitchen, a canopy bed, a grand piano, a gorgeous mountain view, and a couple secret passageways the owners didn't know about.

So here it is, my Yamaha Arius YDP-161:


 
And, I am happy to report, this thing has been pounded on every day since I got it (minus the days I wasn't home). My forearms got properly sore from playing octaves chords over and over again, and my fingers have quickly regained some of their former strength. I haven't had the chance to truly dedicate myself to piano like this since, well, I'm not really sure. Before high school.

Even though I bought this for myself, I consider it a gift from God for a couple of reasons: (1) it's thanks to him that I even had the funds to buy one when I needed it, and (2) he was the one who told me it was okay to buy one in the first place. He understands that I need music and writing to help me work through hard times and high times in my life; he knows that creating music can make everything all better; and he knows that I'm not entirely complete without access to this wonderful instrument.

I can scarcely describe the joy I felt as sat down for the first time and played some good ol' Jon Schmidt. It is supremely awesome to be able to run home during my lunchbreaks on long, boring days to pound out some of my favorite songs for a half hour or so. I can think of no better way to kill time as I'm waiting for 1:00 church to finally roll around.

And, just as I had hoped, I feel like a complete person again, and the dark clouds of life aren't really dark any more.

Mystery + Intensity + Power + Discovery = Music

I just finished watching August Rush with my family; that movie always leaves me feeling inspired. So I thought I would forgo the whole going to bed thing so that I could jot down some of my thoughts. (Besides, there's no falling asleep once my brain hits thinking mode.)

I remember walking out of the dollar theater after seeing August Rush for the first time. We were all unusually quiet; the only people unaffected by the . . . intensity . . . of the movie were Jeremy and Tyrel, neither of whom seemed to think the movie was worth the 50 cents it cost to see it.

The rest of us, however, were having a hard time putting our feelings and thoughts into words.

I've always thought that it must be incredibly intimidating to write the score for a movie about music; for example, The Phantom of the Opera just wouldn't work if the music was simply ordinary--movies like that need music that is truly extraordinary. It is the most crucial element of the story, and without it, the story would fall flat.

The music in August Rush didn't seem extraordinary to me, at least not at first. It didn't have the excitement of John Williams' music or the sing-along-ableness of Alank Menken. It was simply . . . cool, but also a little bit weird. I didn't quite know what to make of it.

Don't get me wrong--I loved the rock/Bach combinations and the way Evan was able to pull music out of the sounds of the streets. And the music certainly was hauntingly beautiful. But still, it left me feeling a little bit unsettled (in a good way), and I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

But today I realized something about the music of this powerful movie. Music, to put it simply, is a mystery; no one can explain why it affects us the way it does, or why it can say things that words can't. The music of August Rush captures that mystery perfectly. It may seem different, even eerie, at times, but within the notes and chord lies a mystery waiting to be discovered.

Kimberly and I have been asked to speak in sacrament meeting in a few weeks, and can you guess what our topic is? Yep--music. We are pretty much the music council of our ward, so it'll surprise no one when we get up there and say, "Today, we were asked to speak about music . . ." However, I've been having a hard time pulling a talk together (the fact that I still have 2 weeks to write it has nothing to do with that . . .). I am more passionate about music than I am about almost anything else, but dedicating 15 or so minutes of sacrament meeting time to what I have to say about music seems like an impossible task. Because music is everywhere--I might as well give a talk about air or something--and it's impossible to know even where to begin or what to focus my time on. As Evan tells everyone who will listen (and even those who don't), the music is all around us, and it does speak to us. It is hard to explain that to someone who doesn't understand the incredible power that music is. Words cannot describe what music is. That is why I haven't tried to blog about music before.

But in August Rush, the producers get a step closer to showing what music really is, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone make it to that step before. Evan has a special gift. That gift wasn't his ability to pick up an instrument and master it in one day, as remarkable as that is. His gift was his ability to capture the mystery, the vast everywhere-ness, of music in his playing and writing. In the rhapsody at the end of the movie, we hear all sorts of sounds that you wouldn't think would go together, but that combine to showcase the unique power that music is. In essense, he captures music in his music, and what better way to describe music than through music itself?

And let me just add a quick word on the sheer brilliance of this movie. All of the characters feel the pull of Evan's music, and in the end it brings them all together. A lot of people complained that the ending was disappointing, but I don't see how it could have been better. As much as I would have loved to see Lyla and Louis (sp?) kiss and see Evan jump off the stage into his parents' arms, the intensity of the moment would have been ruined by such a wonderfully cheesy display of emotion. Instead, we see Evan's face light up with childlike faith and wonder while the parents look on with eyes full of understanding--and the intensity of the moment, capped off by the last few notes of the rhapsody--leaves you almost stunned into silence.

And that's the kind of emotion that makes a good movie.

Music is all around us--it's in the air coming through my rusty vent, in the sound of my fingernails clicking against my keyboard, in the banging of Shannan's nightly dancing (right above me, might I add). As Evan says, all we have to do is listen, and the music will speak to us.

Dreams and performances

Last night I had a dream that we had our concert. I've been trying not to think about that all week, but with Saturday looming closer and closer, it's kind of impossible to not think about it. I wasn't nervous about it until I had this stupid dream—now I'm afraid that everything is going to go wrong, just like it did in my dream.

In my dream, we never got to have a dress rehearsal because Tiffany was sleeping, Kimberly was out fulfilling some obligation or another, and who knows where Shannan was. So me and Mom tried to pull it together but it never happened. When the concert started, there were 1000 people there, but by the end of the concert we only had 100 people left. Tyrel did the wrong Bill Cosby impression, kids were running across the stage while we were performing and I was pushing them off in my anger, Shannan kept trying to hold my hand while we were singing "Somewhere Out There," and my Aunt Deona got up in the middle of the performance and told us that we needed to spruce things up a bit because we were too boring.

Strangely enough, I didn't dream of major mess-ups or costume mishaps. So I think what worries me the most is just the fact that I haven't been in a performance like this since high school. It was all good fun when I was in Trouveres, but this is a concert that WE put together on our own, simply for our own entertainment. (There are other reasons, of course, but when it really comes down to it, we just want to show off. :) ) I think the thing that worries me most about this whole thing as what people will think of us for putting on our own concert—starring ourselves.

But that is just stupid. People do stuff like this all the time. And how many people get to perform with their mom and sisters? Actually, in Mormon communities performances like these aren't that uncommon, but still.

But I think the most important thing about this concert is the journey we took getting here. When I bought all that a capella music for my mom last Christmas, I didn't think that we would actually make it to where we are today. I figured that we would just talk about having a concert and have fun singing with each other every now and then.

However, it was the concert idea that kept us practicing. If we didn't have that goal in mind, we would not have practiced once a week for several months. We Carter girls have busy lives (except for me at—I have no life right now) and we would not have been able to sacrifice the time if we didn't have a greater purpose forcing us to get together. We never would have mastered any of our songs and we would have missed out on hours of giggling, memories, and outrageous choreography. (Don't worry—most of our choreography didn't make it to the final cut.) And all that singing, of course. Jeremy thinks we just giggled all the time, but there was some singing going on.

So I guess I'll keep that in mind tomorrow when I find myself on a stage for the first time in 4 years. When we start adding more husbands and kids to the family, we won't have nearly as much time for stuff like this, and I know that I will remember these days fondly. Even if tomorrow is a huge flop, it was still fun getting there.

Still, I'll be a heck of a lot more calm after this is all over.