Nightmare

So my normally serendipitous relationship with my Mac was less than pleasant this past weekend. I upgraded to Leopard and it was not a fun time.

In Leopard’s defense, it was my fault.

I inserted the disk and said upgrade. The first thing it does is verifies that the DVD is good and it started scanning the disk. It became apparent that that step was going to take 20-30 minutes and since it was a new disk I selected skip.

Well it started upgrading and hung.. as it turns out, there was smudge on my DVD, and my laptop is going on 4 years old, so I’m sure the DVD drive aint what it used to be.

Unfortunately, by the time it hung it had wiped my previous operating system and rendered my laptop inoperable.

Well, to make a long story short, I cleaned the disk and managed to upgrade my OS, but not able to “upgrade” as far as my existing system, files, and apps, and I’ve had to reload almost every app and email file... etc. Not a fun experience.

I AssUme-d the disk was good (and clean).. what can I say.

Now that its installed, however.. its great. I love SPACES to Pieces.

Tim

Light and Her Shadow

“Light and Her Shadow” was born on a flight to Nashville. I was flying down to do some writing with friends and co-writers. I was reading Seamus Heaney and saw an interesting phrase. I believe it was membrane between light and shadow.. and I loved the image that the phrase invoked. I wrote it down and started turning the phrase around in my head to see if there was something there.. I finally settled on Between the Light and Her Shadow... and wrote the phrase down.

Over the next few days in writing sessions I brought the phrase out and got this ‘deer in the headlights’ looks from my co-writers.. actually a lot of my ideas got the same look.. lol.

I had a great time on that trip and wrote a number of cool tunes.. but nothing using that idea.

We have this Blockbuster online account that floods us with movies whether we want to watch them or not. While that’s another journal entry, we had a Roberto Benigni movie the following week where he imagines his life without his love.. and suddenly the idea and the hook connected and “Light and Her Shadow” came together.

(Incidentally, there is a little more to the story. Originally the song was composed with 3 verses and a bridge...which is problematic as far as songwriting goes.. (named “In Between”) The current version was pared down from the original and currently has drawn some interest for use in television soundtracks.)

Enjoy. Thanks for listening (and reading)

Listen to Light And Her Shadow

Tim

Amazing or Crazy? Selfless or Self-Serving?

I think as humans we loose perspective very quickly. We take an amazing message and it becomes rote memory, sometimes losing its deep impact and becoming something we just memorize and mindlessly repeat.

For instance, we are certainly thankful for a Father who was willing to give up his only Child to save us, and yet, what would we feel towards someone we know who would do the same?

Would we doubt the purity of his motives.. would we pity him.. would we just say, ‘how tragic’. Would we question whether there was another way? Would we feel just how undeserving we are of such an action.

What if we were in the position to make such a choice for the sake of others? How would we choose? How would we live with the choice?

What an unlikely thing to do. Who could make up this story?

I think we often forget just how radical God's action was! How amazing it is.

I wrote a bluegrass lyric this spring while pondering this thought. I cowrote the music this summer, and Joel Lane helped me bring this one to life. Its actually going through a rewrite, but but I'd love to get your opinions. Hope you enjoy it.

Tryin’ To Get Them Clean

He's Singing a Song, Written For You

I sang at my church this weekend.. did a song called Unwritten.

I showed up and, having been cast at a different campus than I was rehearsed for, I quickly found out I needed to be singing a 3rd above my practiced part. I was good with it, except for the occasional high “Bb”. Should have warmed up before the run-through.. lol.

Anyways, the service this weekend was about God’s unconditional love for us, and it talked to the fact that many feel that God’s disposition towards us is extreme disappointment. For most of us, I’m sure, we can relate to that.

Scripture, however, says he sings a song for us! Since he’s pretty much a singer/songwriter, I have to conclude he wrote a song for us, as well.

How cool is that?!? Anybody else writing songs for you lately?

Do we fall short? Certainly. Do we do it often? Absolutely! Does it lessen His love for us? No Way! We can’t earn His love.. its just there! Bask in it. God’s pulling for you!

He’s singing a song written for you... and its beautiful!

Silent? Who me?

So, I’ve been kind of quiet lately. Not much to say. Not much to write. I go through this once in awhile. I used to get concerned. Not anymore.... Its a cycle for me.

I just got done paying fall tuition bills, and of late, I’m dwelling more on the ‘make-a-living’ part of my life, and during those times, creative juices get pinched off.

I’m working on mastering my catalog. I’ve heard from many people that they would like to purchase some of my songs, and while I’m not sure if there will be many who actually will.. lol... I’ve used the request to motivate me to do something about it.

Now let me be honest. I don’t consider myself a performer. As an instrumentalist, I envy the talent of others, as I’m pretty simple in my skills.

Vocally, I can carry a tune, but most of my songs would sound better with someone else singing... I’m not trying to put myself down, mind you, but there are much better voices out there.

I recognize, more and more though, that I need to perform more to float these songs I write over a live audience. Its the live reaction to a song that is the best gage of its ability to connect. When I write a song and record it.. all without ever playing it out for an audience, the odds of a song’s final version connecting with the listener fall drastically.

I’m working to change that. The first step is performing more. Another step in the journey is finishing the past songs for sale, and that’s where mastering my catalog comes in.

In the next coming weeks I’ll be releasing an EP of my latest tunes, and in the near future, I will be releasing some of my old songs. Many of you may have copies or access to these songs. I have them posted on various sites.

The new versions however, will be re-mastered, giving the songs much higher clarity and definition. As many of the older songs were recorded on old-school recording gear, this will be a challenge.. but I’m looking forward to rebirthing the old versions.

Look for “Nothing Special”, my new EP in the coming weeks.

Thanks all for your overwhelming support.

Tim

Old Black Water.. and I do mean Old.

So, the church I attend is doing a series called Gone Fishin’ and this weekend they’re doing Old Black Water as an opening number.

If you’re a Doobie Brother fan (my spell-check says I spelled Doobie wrong :shrug: ) then you know it, probably better than you think.

Anywho, I’m singing backup vocals on the tune, and the guy singing lead (as well as the 20-something music director) had never heard it before this week.

I’m feeling old.

They're all home

Woke up early this morning and realized all 3 kids are home and asleep upstairs. By midnight, tonight, one will be gone again.

My oldest is home again after graduating college, until next spring when she gets married. My second oldest, an area director at Spring Hill Camps and she came home for a wedding. She’ll be gone for that by 1:00PM and will drive back to camp either late tonight or first thing in the morning. My son, the youngest, a senior in high school, has been gone on a Teen Service Team working at a summer camp for the last 2 weeks.

But right now, at this very moment, they are upstairs sleeping in their beds, just like they always used to, early on a Saturday morning.

In a year, two of them will be graduated from college, the third getting ready to go off to college. A year.

Now. Right now, I’m sitting downstairs, realizing how precious it is to have them all here at one time.

Truly Missed

I met Jimmy Lee Smith 2 years ago at a Songramp gathering three years ago in Nashville. Well, I met him in person that is. Long before that he was an online encourager of many writer’s music, as well as a gifted lyricist himself.

His love for Jesus Christ and for his wife of 60 years hung on every word of his lyrical love songs. I had no idea he was sick last week when I sat down to write. I had thought of a hook while flying to Nashville, and actually tried to write the hook in a couple of cowrite sessions. (I ended up writing other ideas)

When I finally got the inspiration to use the hook (Between the Light and Her Shadow) I drew on my own relationship with Cyndi, and reflected on the nurtured love of those I’ve known and loved. Jimmy Lee was one of those influences. His love for Martha Sue was entrancing, and seemed to float him through life. His graceful and kind spirit preceded and followed him out of every conversation.

Last year, Jimmy Lee lost the love of his life, and all of us who knew him grieved. Some of the group on Songramp knew her personally. I didn’t, but I really felt like I did. When I saw him again this spring, everytime she came up in the conversation you could feel his love for her.

Jimmy passed away two nights ago and he leaves behind a large group of friends and cowriters who will truly miss him. I cannot perform this song without thinking of his fervent love for Martha Sue. Hope you enjoy it.

In Between

Tim

Great Week

Had a great week in Tennessee. Cyndi and I drove out to Chattanooga, stayed at the Chattanoogan and Went up to Lookout Mountain, and enjoyed the sites. Ruby Falls was awesome, some 1200 feet under the mountain, a half mile walk through the cavern and wow. What a spectacular thing.

The latter part of the week I spent writing in Nashville. I’ve got a couple of great tunes that will be demo’d in a short time. I’m looking forward to sharing them with you. Great to be back in town. I’m actually heading north in Michigan for a few days, but will be back to the grind soon enough.

The South Has Great Restaurants

Cyndi and I flew into Nashville this morning and drove to Chattanooga for our anniversary. As we left Nashville we stopped for lunch, and in Chattanooga we had dinner. After dinner, Cyndi said what I was thinking. “So far, the south wins”.

Not only in food. I realize that I may be displaying a greener grass symptom, but the food, quantity, and the service were stellar and reasonable so far, and the people friendlier. If they hated their jobs, they kept it a secret from me.

C’mon northerners.. let’s raise the standard! The south is kickin’ our butt in this category.

I’ll be back in Nashville tomorrow night. I’ll let you know if anything changes my mind.

Can You Name That Song?

I was online and someone was playing guess that lyric. You know, someone puts up a partial lyric and everyone tries to guess it.

When it was my turn, I put up this one:

There he sits with a pen and a yellow pad
What a handsome lad
That's my boy
BRLFQ spells mom and dad
But that ain't too bad
That's my boy
You can have your TV and you nightclubs
And you can have your drive in picture show
I'll stay here with my little man near
We'll listen to the radio
Biding my time and
Watching Scotty grow

Anyone remember that? Mac Davis wrote it, Bobby Goldburo sang it.

I was 10 years old and home from school for some reason. It was raining.. a cool Michigan fall rain. I had heard the song before, but this particular day, I did something for the first time. My grandparents lived down the road from us, and each afternoon, they would walk down and sit a spell. (This day I suppose they drove down because of the rain.)

Anyways, my grandfather was in the living room and we were playing chess. He preferred checkers, but played chess to humor me. I snuck into the kitchen and did something for the first time. I called a radio station and requested a song to be dedicated to my Grandfather.. Watching Scotty Grow. I remember waiting around for an hour before they played it... and I don’t remember my grandfathers’ reaction. At 10 years old, I guess I was more concerned with mine.

Not long after that, it was my first single purchase.. (wish I still had it.) It was the first lyric I learned.. or remembered learning. It was a song that moved me. It spoke to me. It was my musical awakening. At 9 years old, Mac Davis had awakened my emotions.

I had forgotten it.. and it all came back with a lyric challenge. So much I had forgotten. I could still quote a good portion of the lyric.

Anyways, a shout out to Mac Davis! Bobby too..

I’m sure you have a song that awakened your emotions. It might be hard to remember, but think about it. What was the song? Where were you when you heard it? What were your doing?

Work just got Crazy

So. I work a day job to help pay the bills and it just got crazy. We had to let someone go and for the time being, I get to do his job, too. Sorry for the delay in posting.

I don’t mind, but I’m pretty brain-dead by the end of the day, and my writing is going to suffer for awhile. I’m looking forward to my upcoming trip, though. That will be a good reprieve for me.

In writing, though, I’m working on a pop tune with my good friend Enda Cullen from Dublin, Ireland. We had an opportunity to do some writing for some female pop artists, and we both wondered if we could do it. Its definitely outside of my comfort zone, as well as Enda’s, but its been fun. I had a great recording session with my daughter and mixed her voice last night. Fun stuff. We’ll see where it goes.

Hiding in the Shadows

I was walking downstairs early one Saturday morning... (that’s when I tend to write most prolifically, while everyone else in the house is asleep).. and I looked outside. It was still dark, and there was full moon. The yard was this deep blue-gray and the sidewalk, almost blue. Under the eaves of my porch the shadow of the moon created this dark area against the wall of my house. It was really the only dark area outside, as the moon was so bright.. Even at night there was no hiding from the moon, except in the shadows.

I got to thinking of the times I hide. Not from the moon, but from my potential.. my abilities... my duty. The times I fear failure.. or success.. when I disengage the drive of my life and coast.. take a break. Not because I’m tired, but because I’m afraid.

I looked at that shadow. It was the perfect place to hide. It was as if I was found out.

Now, it seems like no one else gets seriously hurt when you hide in the shadows. How could they? You don’t do anything.. either good or bad. You just exist. The time seems to drag, yet it flies... and when its all said and done and I finally step back into the light, there’s nothing to show for those times. No failures. No mistakes.. No success. No impact. No one gets impacted... is this really harmless to them or myself?

I wrote this when I got to the bottom of the stairs:

Moonglow Shadow

Blessings,

Tim

Nashville Trip

I’m heading to Nashville again at the end of the month. I’ve got some writing appointments, and Cyndi and I are going to spend some time vacationing for our anniversary.

We’re flying into Nashville and driving out to Chattanooga for a day or two. Then we’ll head back to Nashville and Cyndi will enjoy the hotel pool in the mornings while I write and we’ll do the show thing in the evenings.

I’m writing with a couple of great writers, and have a few slots open that I hope to fill before then. I love the challenge of preparing for a write session. I“m pretty much a solo writer, and although I’ve done cowrites in the past, most have been long distance.

No matter how many times I do it, though, I’m always a little nervous going in. I’m meeting with some new writers this time, though, and I’m excited about the prospects. Nervous, but excited.

A Lifetime of Temporary Relief!

I was watching the highlights of the greatest catch this year in major league baseball when I saw a Craftmatic III Adjustable Bed advertisement.

It advertised, “Call now to find out how you can get A Lifetime of Temporary Relief with the new Craftmatic III Adjustable Bed.

It struck me that a lifetime is certainly temporary..

What struck me funnier was that I was watching ESPN.. and apparently its a pretty geriatric crowd demographic who watches with me.

Maybe they should offer a cable box and plasma to go along with the Craftmatic III? Plasma .. I crack myself up.

Write hard. Write often

T

Traveling

Spent last weekend driving all over Michigan. Drove across to Grand Rapids to help my daughter move in to her housing for school this fall. She had a day off. We met with her in the morning, had lunch, drove out to Lake Michigan to walk the beach, drove back, had dinner and said goodnight. Whew. It went fast.

I’m extremely proud of her. She went on her first mission trip when she was in the 8th or 9th grade. and has been on some sort of mission trip every year since. Following her first trip, she volunteered at a youth camp in Central Michigan and has done so ever summer since. Last year she worked the summer as a counselor, and this year she is an Area Director at the camp, overseeing 10 or 12 counselors. She’s majoring in sociology with a minor in non-profit business administration and will graduate next spring. She doesn’t know the details, but she knows what she’s here for.

Stayed at a hotel in Grand Rapids that night, got up and drove to Mount Pleasant to attend a graduation party for our soon-to-be son-in-law of my older daughter. Got to meet a bunch of his family and had some great pulled pork and other goodies.

My wife was good enough to drive home, as I was tapped out.

The most entertaining part of the weekend was the fact that we brought our dog. His name is Mozart and I think he is used to driving in the car, only when he has a vet or groomer appointment, neither of which he particularly enjoys. This resulted in a demeanor, for most of the first part of the journey, that could best be described as nervous anxiety.

He did fine, though, and we’re all back home safe and on with our routines.

Blessings,

Tim

Accountable? Who Me?

I have this habit of hanging out on theology boards and acting like the cantankerous kid in the back who shoots spit-wads at unsuspecting souls. I’m sure its a sign of my destitute old-self lurking in the dark places of my heart, waiting to show his head when I least expect it... like my spit-wads.

I like to play the underdog position whenever I smell a wolf-pack. I’m not always right in doing so, and many times I should just let the herd feed. But sometime I get sucked in and volley a chunk of impala back and forth.

I make it a practice to always sign into these boards with my real name. It tends to keep me honest and upright, and cautiously reserved. But it doesn’t always work. Beyond my integrity, I find that I naturally prefer to be right at all costs, and make a total fool of myself in doing so.

A couple of days ago, in my haste I mis-read part of a post and completely skipped the rest as I couldn’t hit ‘reply’ fast enough. As a result I managed to insult the poster, and generally come off as an idiot.. and was accused, rightly of being one by means of a synonym. I reacted with my usual grace and shot back... only to realize, after re-reading the post and conversing with the writer, that I am, in fact, an idiot. Guilty as charged.

Humble pie is nasty stuff. I can only pray it puts hair on the chest.

Tim

I Need You

Nothing Special

Has anyone noticed that the most profound truths about the Christian life are riddled with pardox?

We die to ourselves in order that we may live.

If we give in order that we may receive, we are sorely disappointed, and yet when we give without motive, we are blessed.

We have the power right up until the moment that we think WE have the power... we are only strong when we humble ourselves in weakness to be indwelled and used.

I think there is another paradox that Christians often forget, or at least I do. I think that God can do whatever he needs to do without my talents. While, of course, that is true, the consequences of such a mindset are obvious. I think we confuse what we do know to be true with what we assume to be true.

For instance, he may know that I will be too introverted with my talent to make a difference. The resulting action is for me to mistakenly conclude that I will be used whether I act or not, a fatalistic approach that supercedes my motivations to make a difference.

It’s as if a part of me says, who do I think I am to act as if I am special or uniquely gifted to step up to a task that needs doing. If God wants something he will do it, with or without me. I will wait to "hear his voice". Act when I'm 'told' to act.

After all, I'm supposed to be humble, right? Bottom line, though, is that I am more concerned about what others think of my motives than what my motives actually are. Trace it back and the real cause is fear.

Now admittedly people do things "for God" when they're really doing them for themselves. That is, they want to earn favor with God, or possibly with other human beings. I do this... often. While this is a theologically incorrect motive, it occurs all the time as a part of each person's journey in spiritual maturity. But God is soveriegn. He knows what He's doing. God uses these people (and me) and the works that they produce in the process, even if their motive is not lilly white.

So, what does this have to do with me? With us as the church? We need not be fearful, and since we can rarely discern a person's motive, for sure, we should not jump to be a detractor or critic on the sidelines. We should always seek to encourage a person on their spiritual journey.

Certainly, I am not deserving of special favor, and yet I am crucial to God's plan. We're nothing special individually, yet we are all special, indeed invaluable as the body. We're put down here to change the world. Although we have nothing that God didn't give us, we have a job to do, and we must trust that if we faithfully seek his face he will redirect our paths to do his work in this world.

        I’m not trying to put myself down
        I believe God has a reason for keeping me around
        I was put down here to change the world
        But I hope that you can see
        That ain’t nothing special about me

Full Version of Nothing Special

Blessings,

Tim

Time Flies

So, I was in Amherst, New York this weekend for what will be my son’s last soccer tournament. He’s a senior in high school next year, and will probably not play club soccer when the next opportunity for soccer tournaments comes around.

Its been at least 10 years since I and my wife and son, (and sometimes my daughters when they were younger) hadn’t spent our memorial days in one of a half dozen states, in one soccer tournament or another. This weekend will most likely be the last. Another season in life comes to an end.

I was in a period of partial dread at the beginning of this week. I always have a great time, but with it comes being away from home, the expense of 3 nights in a nice hotel and lots of restaurant bills, and the inability to do anything around the house on the holiday weekend.

Then it occurred to me that this will be the last one. Wow. Seasons pass, some more graciously than others, but this one passed so quickly, and seemingly without a warning. As I look back on all the soccer photos, kids grow up so fast, and my son is no longer a boy. He’s also my youngest, which makes it all the more poignant. I guess my parents were right again. Time goes by before you know it.

I know I’m not alone in my feelings, although I sufficiently pig-headed enough to think I’m discovering an all-new emotion.

Can anyone relate?

If I Had Two Faces...

While addressing the press during a presidential campaign, Abraham Lincoln responded to allegations from a political opponent, accusing him of being two-faced. He is quoted as saying, “If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?”

I’m finding more and more each day that I am rarely what I am, but instead what I want others to think I am. The problem, of course, is that what I want others to think is constantly changing as time passes. While its somewhat consistent, it can waiver depending on my immediate motives, or emotions.

At the root, there is the person who I really am, and if you think its this nice guy who’s humble and sweet, graceful and forgiving, or kind and courteous, you are gravely mistaken. Those are all things I try to be, but they are not the real me.

Truth is I spend must of my time throttling the real me and dressing him up to fit the moral and aesthetic standard I’ve established in my head. I’ve worked hard to learn the etiquette and moral standards that people have come to demand, but I’m really just that ‘count to ten’ person who strives to evaluate my behavioral choices before executing them.

This is all well and good, and (I assure you) a much better choice for me than acting on my immediate inclinations, but I still have become aware of something. I’m not naturally good, and no matter how hard I work to modify my behavior on an ongoing basis, it doesn’t seem to change my first inclinations, I’m just getting faster and better at playing the part.

I think, though, that I make a mistake when I get comfortable with this. It is the initial reaction that represents the real me. It is that initial reaction that needs to be tamed, not my fortitude to hold it back, modify it, and then let it show.

There was a campaign a while back that compelled people to do just this. WWJD. The implication being that when we are faced with our natural reactions, we think about what this perfect historical figure would do (all past-tense) in such an instance, and instead, should do what he would have done. Good idea. If the object is to modify our behavior (our physical actions and impact on others), this is good advice.

However, if one is talking about root change, not behavioral modification, I think the task is another one altogether. A task that’s bigger than what I am capable of doing by myself.

For me, at least, behavioral modification has more to do with my cognizance than my goodness. Ask Mel Gibson if this isn’t true. I never get drunk, (I can’t drink enough to do so without getting sick first) but I would imagine that would be the best way to see the real me. I know the same person peeks out when I’m tired, or too pre-occupied to grab him and hide him back in the closet. For instance, I apologize when I’m in a bad mood, as if to say, “Sorry. This isn’t like me.” Truth is, its more like me than I’d like to think.

I strive to surrender myself to be changed by the indwelling (present-tense) of the living Christ. I long for the times when I don’t have to count to 10 before I naturally do the right thing, when my first inclination is to think of others without the attached parasitical thought that this is what I’m supposed to do to be a good person.

I pray for REAL change.

Two Faces

Silence - The Real Creator

I've gotten into the practice of waking up and spilling my thoughts into a journal first thing in the morning. Its been a great way to vent the garbage out of my thoughts and has resulted in a clearing of my mind. All habits take time to establish, but this one has shown some great results in a very short amount of time. I had always thought of journalling as something that would be like a composition that I would sell some day. Not this gibberish. Its as if I'm skimming the floaties off my mind so I can get some real thinking done. Of course, there's always the danger that the real thinking is just left over floaties.. but I figure there's less chance of this using this process.

A big factor in this process is the silence that comes along with it. If you sit in silence, you'll find it really isn't silent at all. You start hearing voices and melodies, and concepts and ideas.. Ok.. not really.. I mean not really sounds.. but the thoughts that I associate with sounds and concepts and ideas and melodies.. You start thinking about what you haven't accomplished, or the things you should do. You might think about people you hurt and never apologized to. You think about the things that you would rather drown out with an episode of David Letterman. Trouble is, when you do, they don't go away. They just wait there, waiting for their time to be heard.. and when they are heard, they're even louder, the longer they have been waiting. Writing them down is a way of disarming them, or at least, greatly reducing their volume, and therefore the negative affect they have on my mood and attitude towards life. It also reminds me that there are some issues that need to be dealt with in order that they may be silenced once and for all.

It occurs to me that silence is the ultimate creator, as well. It is from the silence that my best work comes from. I just write it down. Not to say I don't write down floatie melodies and prose from time to time, and many times there are things that I write down that are intellectually derived, using my logic and stored information. Melodies, for instance can be engineered based on chords that I know go together from my vast (yeah, right) knowledge of theory.. but is that creation?

Puzzles

I don't think I've ever created a thing. I've put puzzles together. I've done mathematical equations in engineering to deduct solutions from a given set of constraints or raw material specifications, but creating? That's something that no one can claim. Even the mechanical designs I have assembled in the past contain coincidences in nature, where inertia and gravity and mass all came together and by increasing one while decreasing some of the others, or by combining them together to multiply their effect, a perfect 'design' was accomplished. OK.. not perfect. In any case, after working many designs, there is a humility that becomes to show itself, knowing that I'm not creating, but solving equations, or assembly natural puzzles.

The pieces are out there. In songwriting, for instance, there are 12 notes. Maybe I paste togehter a sequence that no one has heard (or remembers hearing) before, but the notes were always there. Lyrics are the same, right? I guess you can make up words, but for the most part they can all be found typed in a book on your shelf. Even new words depend on existing or similar mental concepts or pictures to paint their definitions. Combining letters into words is only creation in a sense that you combine letters to identify something that already exists. New metaphors are just an assembly of knowledge and culture and existing words, combined to tickle someone's brain. and although we may create a wrinkle that wasn't there before, it isn't really truly creating.

Creation

I'm a theist, and I believe there is a creator. As such I believe that there was time there were no things, as we know them, or at least in this dimension in which we exist. There was a time of creation, I believe, and we as part of creation are gifted specially to appreciate and act on that nature like no other species we know. I don't flaunt our superiority over other species, but I challenge another species to create a new metaphor. Its just the way things are.

It was hard for me to come to the realization that I cannot create something, and it took a lot of years to grow comfortable with that. I would much rather claim the credit and bask in the laurels (when and if I create something that deserves laurels) that come along with it. But being rewarded for things that don't deserve rewards, just result, at least for me, in more of those crappy voices you hear in the silence.

I think one of the best places to hear creation is in the silence. Once I've skimmed the floaties and listen, I hear things that I haven't seen combined before. Every once in awhile something comes out that is universal, true, and significant. I believe the silence is where you can hear the voice of the creator, and I believe He has something to say to each of us. Something we're supposed to share with others. Something, that perhaps, we are especially prepared to hear and to recite to our fellow man, even to the point of saying that we may be the only vehicle to carry the message. Yes. It could be a big deal!

On Sunday, I sat down to write a stream of consciousness onto the page, but decided to wait for something that makes sense. I started, after about 15 minutes, to jot down what I was 'hearing'. In a matter of minutes I jotted down this lyric and went down to my studio and recorded the melody and piano part that I heard.

This is the result:

In The Silence

Peace,

Tim

CRIMES AGAINST OHIO - CMT Finalist

Go Vote For "CRIMES AGAINST OHIO

Hey Freinds,

Crimes Against Ohio, a song I cowrote with Donna Galbraith, has been selected as a finalist in the Country Music Television Song Contest.

Over the next 45 Days, you can go and vote (as many thousand times as you'ld like... lol) for the song of your choice.

I'd appreciate your votes, but make sure to listen to them all. There's some pretty talented writers out there! We're honored to share the space with them.

The prize for the winner is a music row publishing deal and some other sundry prizes including a trip to Nashville, etc. I'd really appreciate your support.

Click on the picture above to listen and vote, or copy and paste the following address in your browser:

http://www.cmt.com/asm/contests/nsai/cmt_choice/2007

Thanks so much,

Tim

And So it Begins

So, in the words of another Tim Wheeler, I'm all blogged up. Actually, his reference was to myspace, as in all myspaced up... but I stole the concept and used it for my dive into the blog.

I steal everything. I don't mean in the dishonest, criminal-intent, slimey sort of way. Its just that I seem to collect things and reform them into what most would describe as original work. I don't think there's any plagerism involved, but I hardly can claim I created these works. There just puzzles that I identified, assembled, and placed on display.

I'm an explorer.. I'm a collector.. I'm an assembler. I'm not a creator.

Hope to give you some more in the future.

Tim Wheeler