It's been months since I've bothered to sit for a moment and reflect on A Burning Ember. This can be interpreted in a number of different ways, mostly positive. Basic tracking began for my new album last November, but because of the holidays and everyone's busy schedules, we didn't get wrapped until early January. From there I spent a few blissful weeks regularly practicing on a grand piano at a neighborhood church in preparation for recording for 3 songs that definitely needed the real thing.
And then began this unraveling that really caught me off guard. I was following every strand, stretching thin, and losing the big picture. Strand one was to look ahead to financing post-production, even thought we were just starting overdubs. My logic was, keep this puppy moving. I overloaded by submitting my first grant proposal and procrastinating on promoting a second crowd funding campaign.
Strand two: I realized I was going to go over budget on the recording phase and I don't have reserves because of my medical expenses. This, more than anything, has really pushed all my old buttons. I'm pissed I didn't accurately budget the studio time it would take us to edit and comp all the material and sing vocals. I could have raised that last summer.
And I've gotten lost in strand three -- making overdub instrumentation and arrangement decisions. We're kind of at a second pre-production phase, which is fun, but not fun when I find myself worrying about how to fund what the songs need to be done right. Can we really afford a choir of voices? Can we really afford two extra instruments on this song instead of just one?
I was at the pinacle of crazy-making two weeks ago, and a few things happened to knit me together. My co-producer reminded me that nothing about this project is worth rushing at the expense of getting done right. These 11 songs have a great foundation. The songs with piano have gorgeous harmonics and tone. It's worth it to get it right, rather than push to get it done.
And my boyfriend and partner on previous albums said this great thing to me the other day. We were driving to the grocery store two weeks ago and I was getting all hamster on a wheel in a cage about the various strands, and he said, "You always get like this at this part of the project." Whoa. Is that where I am again?
It was like a door opened. I saw the room I was in and it was somewhere I never wanted to be in ever again, so I decided to walk out. I needed no walls and a little more joy.
This is what I have done:
-- I've given up on trying to do lead vocals for now. Clearly I'm not ready.
-- I've streamlined my overdub decisions to two: my piano and Chris's guitar. That's it.
-- I've totally let funding go for now. I should have plenty of funds to cover guitars and piano. I'll look at what's next when I get there.
-- I've gotten massages.
-- My new measure for too much is this: If I don't have enough time or energy to cook meals for myself at home, then I'm doing too much. So far so good.
-- I have reintroduced fun by getting back to songwriting. FAWM has rolled around again and I have written 2 songs so far!
-- I've committed to making people more important than my work.
By Sunday earlier this week I was bored and relaxed and well fed. I look forward to a 2-day trip out of town to visit a good friend from high school. I took the time to have some tough conversations with someone I love, because in the end it matters more than a record.
Armed with astute observation and advice from Jeff and Randy and a little will power of my own, I've broken through one of my biggest negative patterns of over-extension and extreme multi-tasking. This is huge for me.
This is also not to say that I won't find myself in the room of over-extension again before this project is done, but for now I celebrate.
It's good to be human and not a machine.
