Firelight
Monday, September 15, 2008
By Joe Bunting
Red Clover Records; August 2008
In an age of digital downloads and portable players, much music has been relegated to the role of background noise. Some bands fight against it with fast tempos and hard vocals, and others, like Radiohead and Sigur Rós, make a living off playing “study rock.” Santa Barbara’s The Coral Sea fit seamlessly into the latter category. Frontman Rey Villalobos’s soft vocals and the band’s dark instrumental textures at times become kinetic enough to make even a casual listener stand up and take notice. Fittingly, one of Firelight’s cohesive themes is that of light versus dark, experienced most notably on the track “Cold Eyes Down,” with a violent lyrical beginning and the contrastingly optimistic outro playing off each other beautifully. The shining star of the effort undeniably is James Garza’s guitar work, which sings crisply and cleanly throughout.
Hello,
Long time no see. I kept my promise and haven’t posted in a long time, and actually it has been very therapeutic. I’ve gotten a chance to focus on my goals better and figure out what I’m doing with my life.
In other news, Liane and I just got back from Georgia where we were with Adventures in Missions on their new retreat called Break Through. It was a powerful experience, and we grew closer to God and to each other.
Today I wanted to share a small personal success. Lately I’ve been doing freelance writing for the Santa Barbara Independent. Below are two of my CD reviews. They’re pretty short. You can probably read them in less than a minute.
Alright, back to figuring out what I’m doing with my life. Adios.
The Anti-Mother by Norma Jean This Christian hardcore (I guess it’s actually post-hardcore, but I don’t really know the difference) is the first screamo band I actually started to like. Speaking of break through, getting used to hardcore was a big step for me.
If Less Is More… Nothing Is Everything by Kate McGarry This is music for old people. If you’re young though, take a peak anyway, just for me. Pretty please 
My computer just restarted on its own without saving a document I was working on. My writing was lost. We’ve all had moments where we’ve lost our work. I remember Hemingway once lost a suitcase containing most of a year’s worth of writing.
My writing obviously isn’t worth anything like his, but still, I am tempted to get frustrated. It was theoretically for myself, but I liked what I was writing and wanted to share it with others. It was one of those enthusiastic outbursts of imagery which I think are so powerful. A little like the way Cari writes.
However, at the same time it wasn’t mine. Those moments are like watching something unfold of which you have little power over, like being a conduit. How can I claim ownership of that, and therefore, how can I be frustrated now that it’s lost?
What do we do when the work of our vocation is lost? What do we do when our mission bears no fruit? Or if the fruit spoils or is ruined? Do we weep? Do we feel sad? Do we get angry? And with whom? Do we curse them?
This is where the rubber meets the road. Because it is in this very moment which we, in trying to use our gifts for the sake of the world, become someone who damages the world with our curse.
There was a movie in the 90s about a college student who was going to graduate with honors (it’s actually called With Honors), but he lost his senior thesis. A homeless man found it and made a deal with him, for every day he would feed and house him, the bum would give him back a page.
Eventually the homeless man became a sort of mentor to the Harvard student. In the end, the student never got his thesis back. He ended up pulling an all-nighter and finishing it, but it wasn’t very good. He didn’t graduate with honors. His horizons were definitely broadened though.
The point is, there is a blessing waiting for us when we lose our work. It might be a reminder that our gifts, and the fruit of our gifts, are not ours but God’s. It might be an opportunity to grow in understanding by re-doing the work. Or if redoing the work is like pulling teeth, it might be a soul searching opportunity where we can ask ourselves, is this really the work God wants for us?
The question is, will we allow ourselves to be blessed, or will we curse the world we’re trying to heal?
I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t post yesterday.
However, you’ll be happy to know I was still productive. I pounded out a 9 page, 2,300 word paper for my marketing class. Now my class is over and I have nothing to do on Wednesday nights.
I do have some cool things to share with you in the next week or so. I had two really good conversations about vocation.
The first conversation was with my friend and roommate, Brett Stuvland. Over Freebird’s quesarittos we talked about his vocation to renarrate people’s stories through the lens of the gospel. Brett hadn’t ever thought of it as his vocation, but a lot of things clicked that night. It was exciting!
The second conversation I had was with my old friend Amanda Crowley. Amanda likes to spend time with the poor and the homeless. She told me some neat stories which I’ll hopefully be able to share with you in the next week.
I better get writing fast if I am going to share all these stories with you because I am having two more conversations that should delve into purpose and vocation coming up just today. This afternoon I will be meeting with Teri Rouse, an old friend of the family, who is finishing up her work at the YMCA where she helped develop its services for at risk youth. Hopefully I will be able to share what I learn with you.
Also, tonight I am starting work on a new project by interviewing Linda Ekstrom, a friend and local artist whose work you can see here. Her sculptures are deep and beautiful. Eventually Linda will appear in a new blog (and hopefully a book… ooooh) I’m working on about Christian artists.
So much writing to do, I think I’ll have to post twice today. See you later aligator.
I think I’m a better writer than a singer/songwriter. I’m pretty good at writing songs. My songs are deep and interesting and deal with weighty topics like despair, forgiveness, and hope. Brett and I performed them in our living room and made two people cry. We performed them for the Golden Gate showat Northstar Coffee Co. and made a whole bunch of people cry.
For me, making people cry is the biggest success I could ask for. It sounds weird to say it, but my greatest joy in art is to see tears running down their faces or their eyes watery and close to bursting. Some musicians like to make their audience dance, I like to make them cry.
There’s an honesty about crying. There’s a vulnerability in it, and I am blessed by your tears’ trust in me. Also, I know this is sort of corny, but I stumbled on this little poem by Jen Lemen, and I agree with her when she says, “I believe in the power of tears to heal your heart.” I rarely cry, but I know it’s an important moment when I do.
The thing is, when I was performing my songs, the only people who ever teared up were women. I don’t know why, but I never succeeded in making any guys cry. Sure, it’s a difficult task. Guys are notoriously dry-eyed, but I take that as challenge. I want to bring tears to the ones who think they’re the toughest.
I think I’m a better writer than a singer/songwriter. I just wrote an article for a newsletter, a newsletter for a Christian community, and I guess the article was good because it made guys cry. Yep, that’s right I got word that at least 2 men cried while reading it.
Last time, my song “A Thousand Skins” made 2 women cry. This time, my article made 2 men cry. I’m not going to include my article here (but if you are really curious email me, and I’ll send it to you), but
The funny thing is, when I was reading it again, to my surprise I started to tear up myself. What a privilege! You know you’re doing something right when you can believe in your work so much it still makes you cry.
I hope you don’t mind me sharing my little success story. I’m quite excited about it.
The 20s are a time of experimenting, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. Sometimes I wonder if they’re just a time of unrealistic dreams and confidence shattering disappointments.
The unrealistic dreams part is definitely true for me. For example, today I was thinking, “Maybe it’s time to go to seminary. Maybe I should go be pastor.” I had just opened Fuller Theological Seminary’s website when I got interrupted and had to go do something else.
While I was working on it I got totally distracted from my thoughts about seminary. Then, in a completely separate thought, I decided all I really want to do is be an entrepreneur and start a business. Not 100% sure what that business would be, but I want to do it.
Later today I thought about how I want to work as a writer, working on articles for newspapers and magazines, and taking off time to write dozens of books.
I’m okay with dreaming for the most part. I like to dream big, and it works for me. It gives me a creative edge and motivation to compete with just about anybody. However, it gets dangerous when the dreams become like a medieval torture device, stretching my limbs apart until I break like a rag doll.
The best thing to do in these situations is to take a deep breath, write all your dreams down, then forget about them for awhile. You don’t want to forget about them forever, but right now they are more trouble than they are worth. Get them on paper, then get out.
Shakespeare’s plays are not about love or marriage. His tragedies are not about death, although everyone always dies at the end. Shakespeare’s plays are about power.
There are the easy ones where this blanket statement is easily seen: Henry V, Henry IV, and probably all of the histories (although most of them, I haven’t seen).
What about Taming of the Shrew though. On the surface it is clearly a love story about how a confident, independent man who wooed a confident and very independent (to the point of being shrewish) woman until both of them fell deeply in love. However, what makes Shakespeare’s plays so much better than our cheesy chick flicks today is that even his love stories are about power.
Key power questions in Taming of the Shrew:
- Is a marriage in which the man has all the power and the woman bends over backward to his will a just social institution?
- Is it just for a father to have the power to give his daughter away in a marriage she does not want?
- In other words, is patriarchy okay?
Those are important power issues. They come down to who has the power, even in love? Should they have the power? Should someone else have the power.
The Tempest, Shakespeare’s play about the wizard and his beautiful daughter who are stuck on a desert island, is also about power. It is about the wizard’s power over the elements (sometimes tyranical) and the return of power to people it was unjustly taken from.
Even Romeo and Julietis about power, and not just the power of young love. It’s about two families vying to destroy each other and take complete power in their city. This feud is what eventually ends up destroying what they care about most, their children. It’s also about how the power of love, the love between Romeo and Juliet, eventually becomes the catalyst for reconciliation between the feuding fams.
Shakespeare truly was a master of playing with power. It’s one reason why his plays are so dang good.
I’m thinking about this in relation to the story I’m working on which we’ve talked about the last few days. Where is the power in Crash and Burn? Why does Bobby feel so powerless? What kind of power does Tiffany have over men? Does she like having power or does it make her uncomfortable? How does Bobby eventually gain power? power with women? power with his peers? Is it okay to get power in the way he does? Does he enjoy using his power?
These are just a few questions I’m exploring. What about you? Do you feel like you have power? If not, who has the power in your life? If you do, how do you use your power? Justly or tyrannically? Hopefully justly. Otherwise you might find yourself in a Shakespearean tragedy.
