Naptime Reflections - T. Swift

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the part of the show where I micro-blog about topics on which I'm thinking, probably mostly during the time when Ellie and Kate are napping. Thus the title. I'm so clever, I know. 

I don't listen to Taylor Swift's latest album, "1989," anymore. 

I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's album-before-last, "Red." So naturally, I was excited when her new album arrived, and listened to it voraciously. 

That is, until I began singing it around the house...and my little mini-me started joining in the fun. 

"Boys only want love if it's torture/don't say I didn't say I didn't warn ya," I belted out in my best pop voice, until a little echo issued from my oldest daughter, Ellie, who is less than three years old. "Boys...!" she sang, and suddenly, I really heard the lyrics that were coming out of my mouth. I reviewed the rest of the album, and found myself appalled with the messages I had been pouring into my brain - and my child's brain - as I crooned Taylor's tunes. 

This is my disclaimer that the content of T. Swift's latest album is not appropriate for children. There are many instances where the lyrics are nakedly sexual at worst, and worldly at best. I am a firm believer in discernment in media. We imbibe messages from what we read, watch and listen to whether we are conscious of it or not, and so do our children.  

Review - Andrew Peterson's Counting Stars

For those moments when words fail, Andrew Peterson fills in the blanks, and he does it for God. Peterson’s worship overflows in a way that makes listeners desperately thirst to do the same – his new album is like a master painting that inspires others to pick up a brush and try to paint, too.

I’ve never heard the likes of Peterson – he truly wields his acoustic guitar and smooth voice like a paintbrush as he sings to life the spiritual and emotional beauties that overflow in the life of one who knows God. Counting Stars, the title of his most recent album released in July 2010, is an appropriate one. The collection of songs whispers of the treasures of unseen worlds, and reaches out an invisible hand to brush the edge of the infinite and flawless.

Peterson was born in small-town Florida in the 1980s, where he dreamed of adventure as he poured through fiction books like those of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Eventually, he moved to Nashville, where he began his career as a musician. His song “Nothing to Say” became a Top Ten radio hit in 2001. In addition, Peterson received a Dove Award nomination for his single "Family Man," and has since garnered much respect among other Christian musicians. Peterson is also an accomplished fantasy novelist as the author of the Wingfeather Saga, which won the 2010 Christy Award for best young adult fiction. He is married with two sons.

Peterson has frequently been compared to Rich Mullins, and rightly so. The self-proclaimed Mullins aficionado writes profound, yet conversational lyrics and plays with a mellow, folk-like sound that hearkens back to older Mullins songs like “Here in America.” However, Peterson drops the early 90’s flair and sticks to simple, effective instrumentation with acoustic guitar, piano, bass, light percussion, and occasionally strings and a french horn. The result is a sound that lends itself to quietness of mind, and simple consideration. Peterson invites us into this mindset in his charming opening song “Many Roads”:

If you'll step inside this great glass elevator/It'll take us up above the city lights/To where the planet curves away to the equator/I want to show you something fine.

There’s more to Peterson than just good sound, though. Clearly, he knows why he’s doing what he’s doing – God has given him a gift, and he wants to squeeze every last bit of joyful worship out of it to give back to his Lord. A listener will never get the impression that Peterson threw his lyrics together quickly or carelessly. The words are consistently thoughtful and thought provoking, simultaneously ministering to listeners in a raw, human-to-human way as in the song “You Came So Close,” and leading them past the wall of the mundane to the realm of the invisible God as in the more melancholy “The Last Frontier.”

Counting Stars covers a rich range of themes, from fidelity to the fear of God – basically, anything that stirs up Peterson’s bone-deep emotion. However, the songwriter’s central concept is that beauty saturates human experience, which he speaks extensively of in “The Magic Hour.” Though Peterson is too subtle to out-and-out state that theme, it’s incredibly clear. Just as the promise that Abraham’s descendants would outnumber the stars (Genesis 15:5) began with God, every statement about life that Peterson makes points to God, its origin.

No matter where a Christian listener is in life, Counting Stars will renew the childlike wonder of the listener’s soul. Peterson is an artist worth commending and supporting as he continues to use his talent to glorify God.

Hit the Floor

Bear with my childish enthusiasm, and these two correspondingly simple sentences: sometimes, life is overwhelmingly fun. There are so many cool things to learn while we're here. 

To think -- we will never  come to the end of knowledge, nor reach the limits of talent!

That's my verbose way of introducing the story of a girl who was a dancer in another life. Who's the girl? Well, me, of course. Silly [dear] reader!

I like, and have honed my talents in, a few creative endeavors; namely, singing, writing and sketching. Over the years, though, I've discovered how much I want to dance. I harbor that desire, along with all my other silly fantasies, in my head, and have ever since I was a dancer in high school musical theater. 

I've dreamt of mastering

- First, ballet,

- Later, Irish step dancing,

- And lately,  hip-hop.

Don't laugh! (Hehe...)

I keep having dreams that involve my getting into an exclusive group by proving I'm a good dancer (remember my post about the "party boat?"). It's weird. My fellow professional writing student Jelani ribs me about the dreams, though I insist I can't hip-hop dance. As a joke, he sent me a video with a five-minute-long dance sequence that made my head spin. He demanded I learn it. I fired up the video to hear that catchy, pulsing beat underscoring the words "clap your hands to the beat this instant!" Right.

Anyhow, I decided to learn some basic moves as a joke. I found some instructional videos on--where else?--youtube. Two days later, I'm still watching the videos, and have spent the last hour seeing if I can pull off the moves in front of a mirror. I don't mind making a fool of myself when my reflection's the only audience, after all!

Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not keeping at it just because I'm perfectionistic and stubborn (both of which I'm working on). I simply love it. Dancing is just too fun. It wouldn't have been realistic for me to cram lessons into my already-hectic middle and high school schedule. 

Perhaps I'm slowly getting it out of my system. Until then, my poor reflection is going to have to endure yet another episode of "Jaimie Krycho Tries to Learn Hip-Hop Dancing." 

It's a comedy, by the way.

Chris and Me, Avril and Me

Hi, everyone.

I've been sliiiightly out of commission this last week. I didn't make a Krychocosm, for one, but I think that's pretty excusable, considering the fact that Chris and I were out of town for our friends David and Bethany's wedding from Friday to Sunday, and Sunday was our first anniversary. We got all gussied up fancy-shmancy went to Cheesecake Factory.

Photo courtesy eataroundokc.com

Then, we stayed at the gorgeous Skirvin-Hilton hotel in OKC!

Photo courtesy www1.hilton.com

Also, there are pretty flowers sitting on my coffee table.

Isn't that awesome? God is good.

In the car yesterday, Chris and I were listening to Avril Lavigne's Let Go.  Great memories. I am unashamed that that CD is still one of my favorites -- not only does Avril have a beautiful voice, I identify (and did in the past) with many of her songs.

My mentioning this sparked an interesting conversation, in which I tried to explain why I -- very normal (well...), very girlish and very peppy -- felt so in touch with very punk, very edgy and very angst-y Avril. In fact, since Let Go came out,  my heart has hurt for her many times as I listened to the sad stories contained in her songs.

Chris listened to the lyrics of "Anything But Ordinary" and said, "Okay, I can see why you identify with her, in some good ways and bad ways." For example: A good way is that, as the song says, "I'd rather be anything but ordinary, please." A bad way is my unhealthy restlessness and discontent, reflected in the lyrics, "Is it enough to love? Is it enough to breathe?" And later, "[I'll do] anything to make me feel alive."

I mused that I wasn't sure someone like Avril and I would be friends if we actually knew one another. Then, the thought hit me (hear me out on it): There are really only a few types of people in the world.

I think we all have our categories of pain and insecurity that overlap with a larger chunk of humanity than we can fully comprehend. At the same time we're utterly unique, we're also so very similar. Isn't that crazy?

P.S. More not-so-happy mail. Got a manuscript back today that I've sent in twice (graciously, the editor let me make corrections and try again the first time). Once again, she made edits and said to fix it up and send it back to her. Meh. Let's try this dance again...

The Voice of the People

Quote of the day -

Me, very seriously and convictedly, to Dorathea: "I'm planning to be more spontaneous this summer!"

---

It's summertime! What a great feeling! God is continuously healing me, mind and heart, so thank you for your prayers, and know that Chris and I are seeing the fruit of them.

I was listening to Casting Crowns' Lifesong today, paying close attention to the lyrics. I'm pleased with that CD. So many of the songs are written from the perspective of hurting people. They address things that are pretty hard to discuss, like hypocrisy in the church, a Christian's response to tragedy and periods of depression and darkness. You know, the stuff that ticks you off or makes you cry that you can never say aloud.

These voices aren't often heard. I proffer myself as a comparative example: this semester has been a practice in honesty for me--in opening up in all my pain and confusion and anger to people who unconditionally love and support me. The fact that that was so hard for me, a long-time Christian with a very fellowship-oriented husband, begs the question: What aren't people saying?

Surely, you've experienced the kind of pain that makes your heart feeling like it's literally breaking, or that makes your consciousness feel caged in the dark. I want to be a Casting Crowns kind-of woman, who sees and cares about what God sees and cares about.

In the words of my favorite worship song, Brooke Fraser's "Hosanna": "Heal my heart and make it clean, open up my eyes to the things unseen. Show me how to love like you have loved me!"

I feel like I've written this post before. In fact, I know I have. I've also written this addendum before. Ah, well, it's a refresher; moreover, a picture of where my heart is at as I do my best to surrender my feelings and my selfishness to my Lord and God.

---

I just remembered how in sixth grade, my best friend and I used to say, "yeppers peppers."

You May Never Know...Which ROCKS.

Thinking about the Nicole Nordeman song "Finally Free" today, I realized that Nicole Nordeman wrote something that changed my life, and she'll never know that.

You know my opinion about lightning bolt moments--they don't often happen. At the end of a growing process, though, sometimes the culmination of understanding is a lightning bolt. The lyrics of this song gave me hope in a time when I, fallen and broken like David in the Pslams, cried out for rescue. It confirmed in the deepest part of my heart that "even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" (Psalm 23).

It was a spiritual turning point for me--God showed himself trustworthy in a mighty way.

This whole thing came to mind for two reasons:

1. Last year, my friend and I led a Bible study that I considered a total disaster. However, little did I know, one girl in the group took away so much from it...enough that she requested another study! Now, I'm discipling her, and it's so awesome to see how God is working in her.

2. I've been working through Mark Robinson's (Wildwood's executive pastor) Bible study on John, "Vital Signs." Once again, my friend is learning so much through it. I can see both her and my eyes opening to new truths. Mark may never know this, but he was faithful to put the study together--a huge project--and God is now working through it.

If God calls you to something that seems pointless, remember this post. You may never know how He uses it, but He has holy reasons for the things He asks, and that's awesome.

Music Review - I Dreamed a Dream by Susan Boyle

Surely, you haven’t forgotten Susan Boyle.

When the middle-aged Scottish woman stepped onto the stage of the show Britain’s Got Talent, she probably had no idea that her stunning performance of “I Dreamed a Dream” would become virulent YouTube material as well as land her a recording deal with Sony. Her album, I Dreamed a Dream, released November 24 with opening-week sales of over 700,000, proves what a talent Boyle really is.

She was lauded for the passion she conveyed singing on stage, and that passion is definitely not lost in the album. Boyle’s classic voice was made for dramatic songs: her incredible range and penchant for vocal flourishes serves her well. Also, she’s easy on the ears, even in loud soprano songs such as “Wild Horses,” the first title on I Dreamed a Dream (think toned-down, British version of Celine Dion).

I Dreamed a Dream showcases Susan Boyle in an array of singing styles, from the jazzy “Cry Me a River” to an oddly elegant cover of The Monkees’ “Daydream Believer.” Unsurprisingly, several of the titles play to the notion of lost love, which is a major reason why Boyle’s song in Britain’s Got Talent tugged on our heartstrings in the first place. This blatant emotional appeal is quickly justified when listening to Boyle, however, whose vibrant voice adjusts to each different style as appropriate, bringing variety to a common theme.

I am disappointed that I Dreamed a Dream features so many songs that electronically tamper with Boyle’s voice. The album uses weird echoes liberally, which detract from, rather than enhance, the beauty of the song. Boyle—with her good enunciation, strong attack and clear sound—has enough skill to stand alone, without anything to make her sound more ethereal or interesting.

The arrangements of most of the songs do not impress me, either. I’m shocked at how many times a gospel choir rises up behind Boyle’s voice: it does not mix well with her almost-Broadway sound. In addition, much instrumental potential was lost in the attempt to mellow out songs using synthesized instruments.

However, I Dreamed a Dream—and Susan Boyle—is a definite keeper. The singer has already made an emotional connection with her audience that is invaluable to the effect of her album. Reflective and poignant, I Dreamed a Dream will please a wide range of listeners with Boyle’s undeniably beautiful voice accompanied by a message that her voice breathes life into.

A Musical Shot of Endorphins

Karen, whom I mentioned in my post about fists, once advised me to compile a list of things that make me happy or lift my spirits.

Because I am a woman, those things only work from day to day (sorry, men, you'll never figure us out), although I've found one happy pill that hasn't failed yet.

Listen to this vibrant Swahili song, "Baba Yetu," the lyrics of which are The Lord's Prayer.
I'm serious! Listen! You won't regret it:

http://www.tinworksmusic.com/

Go to "Samples." Then, go to the first item on the list, "Civilization IV" (yes, there are two so-titled links, and it's the first).

Hope you share my happy!

Review - Jon Foreman's Fall

It’s been awhile since I was moved by an album as much as Jonathan Foreman’s work, Fall, the first of his Limbs and Branches series released in October 2008. The lead singer of the popular Christian rock band Switchfoot, Foreman certainly holds his own as he extends his songwriting endeavors into this brooding and personal collection. Most of my inspired musical experience has been linked to daydreaming; Fall hits on reality with the force of—borrowing one of the man’s song titles—a south-bound train.

Jon Foreman’s musical style is the first thing that grabbed me, even before the brilliant, lucid lyrics and incisively universal themes. Fall has all the elements of 70’s Simon-and-Garfunkel-style folk: Socially aware, sensitive (nearly to the point of being touchy), a music that a person could listen to over and over and still discover and appreciate new things about it. To make the album generationally relevant, this older mode merges with an edgy, alternative attitude, delivering a punch with its singular melancholy.

Foreman’s lyrics border on poetry; the CD insert notes that Foreman developed most of his songs in the wee hours of the morning, a time quite conducive to deep writing. It is very refreshing to hear a raw account of those feelings, having experienced many of them myself. Indeed, the theme of Fall is, appropriately, the fading of things loved, and the writer doesn’t mince words in describing the darkness that accompanies it:

How miserable I am/I feel like a fruitpicker who arrived here after the harvest/There’s nothing here at all/Nothing at all here that could placate my hunger (“Equally Skilled,” track 3).

Most notable about Fall are the themes, the aforementioned being the main one. Foreman’s CD bears no guise. When Foreman is sad, he says so. When he regrets, he says so. And while the listeners don’t have to grapple with metaphors thick enough to cut with a knife, the songwriter doesn’t just feed them all the intricacies of his mind with a pedantic sort of straight-shooting. The feelings are clear enough to where anyone can understand them, but, like good literature as well as good music, there are enough underlying beauties to be found that a person does have to do some thinking and searching to find them, making discovery of them all the more meaningful.

I really only had one beef with this CD: The first time I listened through it, I found it inordinately depressing. The listener must pay close attention to the whole of Foreman’s lyrics, as well as the arc of his songs throughout the complementary Winter, Spring, and Summer albums, to truly catch the spirit behind the sorrow. Foreman’s songs alternate, just like King David’s Biblical psalms, between lamenting the injustice of the world to praising God for the hope ultimately found in Him. Overall, the hope in Fall trumps the lamentation, though the latter is strong enough to leave a bad taste in non-discriminatory listeners’ mouths (or, a bad ringing in their ears?).

Having listened to the entire Limbs and Branches series, I can confidently say that Fall is my favorite album. It is a satisfying listening experience musically, a provocative one lyrically and a solid one thematically. Jon Foreman is a true virtuoso in his musical realm and will have my support as long as the seasons change.