A Bamboo's Life

Hey everyone, a July update for you. I’ve just said goodbye to Athens officially and have moved just down the street to Atlanta. I was in Athens for 9 years (wow!) and honestly I wish I felt more strongly about leaving. But everything has felt so weird for so long now that making this big move just felt like another big weird day. I am sure that the scope of what that chapter meant to me and my friends will be revealed and understood slowly over time. Today, I wanted to write an update about moving, listening, redefining, and my idea to push this blog forward as a diary of new adventures and explorings in my new home. I posted on instagram that this would be my first time writing about my experience and perspective as a minority who grew up in a white space. If you would like to skip to that section, it is under the heading, “Listening.” But if not, please enjoy some updates about moving and some things I have been considering spiritually. Moving I wanted to reflect on all the work I had done in music since moving to Athens and made a catalog of all the music I had produced and recorded over the last 9 years. After going back through my hard drives and counting up the releases, I calculated that I had produced and mixed roughly 260 songs since 2011. I realize that I never really felt like I was doing “a lot” or really anything. I’ve realized that doing things never feels like you’re actually doing them. It’s just a process that takes a long time. But after a while, say 9 years, of just trying song after song after song… you’ve built something and you didn’t even know it. Brick by brick by brick. I heard the saying about young people that we “overestimate what we can do in the short term and underestimate what we can do in the long term.” How true. So for anyone out there who is working on something, or you have a big dream that feels out of reach - it is wise and practical to begin putting something in every day. Something small. Drop something in the bank, even a penny. Each and every day. Refuse to be dictated by your fears and your inability. Don’t look around too often except to learn. get off instagram. Don’t wait to feel ready to start anything. Just do it every day and you’ll eventually get going. One of the most convicting and helpful quotes I’ve read in a long time is “Don’t confuse your cowardice for prudence.” And boy does that cut. Anyways. I have moved to a town just east of Decatur called Clarkston. One of my best friends from college just made big boy moves and purchased a house there, and has so kindly offered me a room and the basement to begin Bloom Sounds’ operations in Atlanta. I’m still getting a feel for what is around me. I’ve been drowning in all things Asian food, since we’re right by Buford highway. One of my goals this year is to learn more from my mom about how to cook Taiwanese meals we had growing up. So far, I’ve gotten the tofu stir fry to lightly slap. A good start. The move has been kind to me. I feel like I’ve made the right decision. REDEFINING I’m starting a new chapter in life. It feels overdue. The move has really helped because I found that the shift of the physical location for me has been a good tangible reminder that the last chapter of my life has closed. With the change has come an opportunity to take a good, hard look at what I’ve built my life around thus far. I feel like everything is under scrutiny - my faith and all the practices that came with it, my values, my friends, my way of thinking, my habits. Everything. Has this been good? What needs to go? What needs to change? What is no longer useful? What do I need to dig deeper into? I am energized by the possibilities while I am simultaneously terrified of the change. My musical tastes have taken me away from Christian music, and I’m exploring other ways of writing and expressing different aspects of life. just human ones. I’m dealing with my frustrations with Christian culture, how I’ve felt deceived, how I’ve felt hurt, how I’ve felt jaded (note that I am saying “felt” rather than “been”)*. I feel my values shifting. I feel myself caring more about being honest than appearing to be a certain Christian way to everyone. I am seeing the impracticality of acting. Why do we pretend like everything is one way when it’s really another? Why do we feel the need to feign a holiness or a godlikeness that is absent in most moments of our everyday lives? I have found that the pressure to be perfect or to have a perfect life in order appear like a “better” Christian or better person is altogether unhelpful. We need an honest dialogue that addresses the secrets and the shames that we carry in the unseen parts of our experience. We can only pretend for so long. For the first time in my life I am letting myself feel frustrated, doubtful and angry about my experience with religion… with the franchised, capitalist, American Christianity that has pimped the story of Jesus to make much of our own personal lives and agendas. But I am so hopeful that a real God might not look anything like what I’ve seen. After all, if you think about it, if God is much bigger than us and looks nothing like us, then it might make sense that our institutions might have missed the mark in some small and large ways. Some of us are so hurt because we placed an unrealistic expectation on human beings and man-made institutions. If you’re around my age, middle to upper class, have gone to church with mostly white people, and have engaged with American Christianity and the culture surrounding it, you have most likely, in many ways, been indoctrinated into a celebrity Christian culture that deified its leaders and their ministries. So no wonder, when these people and places inevitably failed us, it felt like God himself failed us. To use a Biblical allegory, a lot of my generation innocently and unknowingly built our houses on the sand - celebrity pastors, Christian trends, so-called movements, or the most recent hit worship song or band. And then life, just as life does, came in wave after wave, and as we grew up and saw more of the reality and harshness of our world, our foundations were revealed and for many of us, those foundations were destroyed, leaving us lost and embittered. In millennial Christian speak, one might say I have entered into my deconstruction, but I honestly hate using that word because I’ve seen too many jaded people use “deconstruction” as a pass to disengage from the conversation, naval-gaze, and act like assholes. I understand that there are times when it is appropriate to burn the whole house down, and I think it is necessary. But I implore all of us (I’m writing to myself)… please, after you’ve burned down the village… build something better for the people using what you’ve learned. Every experience, and I’d say especially the painful ones, are useful if we allow them to be. I am just beginning to unpack this part of my life. It’s taken me a while to be honest but I feel ready to start talking about it. I’m definitely going to continue to process this on the blog, but I just wanted to give an overview of where I’m at. I’m definitely afraid of what some of you might think of me if I continue to be more honest, but ultimately I’ve come to realize that it’s not worth it to appear perfect and to feel unknown and disingenuous… and I know that there are a few of you out there who are wrestling with the same thing, and I want to be a voice for you through telling my story honestly and unapologetically. That’s what makes it worth it to me. And, if you’re looking for writing that acknowledges the beauty of life without the pain it takes to cultivate and understand it… you might be reading the wrong blog. *remember that we are always tempted to shift blame and responsibility as far away from ourselves as much as possible. If we can create a narrative that says that we are the good guys without any fault and that the people or places that hurt us are surely bad, then we can escape any responsibility to understand, listen, and ultimately forgive. I am growing increasingly aware of how people paint themselves within their own pain. With the exception of extreme cases, if someone tells a story in which they are 100% the victim of a 100% ill-intended individual or institution… there is much work that needs to be done.* Listening I remember, very specifically, a conversation a friend and I had my freshman year in college. We shared a similar Asian-American experience - we grew up middle class in the suburbs, we were popular among white people, we were typically the only asian people in our crews, and we were leaders. I remember so vividly, parked outside of our dorm hall, connecting over the fact that neither of us liked asian people. In that moment, our conversation was our response to watching a group of Korean girls cross the crosswalk in front of us, arms linked, giggling. We ripped them apart. We were racist against our own race. Our gripe against asians was that they seldom engaged with mainstream white culture. We criticized asians for always sticking together and never assimilating into whiteness like we did. I can’t speak for my friend, but in my eyes, I considered myself better than other asians because I was accepted by white people. I made it onto the team and others didn’t. In my mind then, rejecting my asian-ness and assimilating into whiteness was a noble and good thing, as if I had earned my way into some higher level of society where most other minorities weren’t allowed . I felt like I belonged. I had made it to the inside. I look back on this moment I had with my friend in college and see that it indicated a deep and important dynamic that minorities have dealt with their whole lives. And only in my 27th year of life have I begun to face and unpack the ways that I have been affected, and how I want to respond. And now, we’ve found ourselves in an unprecedented time in history. People are starting to listen. When it has come to the race conversation, I’ve been slower than a lot of the people around me to come to conclusions, and I have not yet felt it timely or appropriate to take my opinions to the internet arena. I have felt incredibly awkward, because of my Asian American-ness. Essentially, I grew up with white privilege while I was simultaneously oppressed by the same system. I was receiving the benefits of a privileged system while also feeling like I was never really a part of it, dignified by it, nor respected by it. This realization, exacerbated by the nation’s current social climate, has been life altering to my core and has brought so many things that have been a part of my life into question. I am looking back on times that I felt so strange, out of place, and out of touch in white spaces… and I’m realizing that I wasn’t crazy for feeling those things. That I wasn’t wrong for feeling those things. White culture, in my experience, seldom yelled… but always whispered to me, “get like us, or get out.” I have carried such a shame about myself for so long because I thought that there was something innately wrong with me because I could never fully identify with the spaces I occupied at a cultural level, both white and asian. Simply, I wasn’t white so I couldn’t fully be embraced by whites, and I alienated myself from Asian-American cultures because I learned to view it as less-than, which hurts me so much to even type. The reality is, I was living in two different worlds, culturally, while 99% of the people around me were living in one. This, over a lifetime, has had immense consequences on my sense of identity, belonging, and nationality… and I know I’m not alone in this. I have had a feeling during this time that one of the big assignments for me over the course of the next chapter of my life will involve understanding these dynamics, speaking out for others who may have had this same experience, and reconciling my heritage, which I have been running from for 27 years. And so here we all are, finding ourselves becoming more and more aware as a society of racism and racial injustice. And during this time, where sensitivity is at an all time high and our nation continues to polarize, deciding how to move forward can feel intimidating and overwhelming. I have felt that my course, personally, has been to listen. To try to understand a broad scope. To be slow to speak. To learn as much as I possibly can from many differing perspectives, especially the ones that are challenging to me. I have had issues with the language that claims that “silence is violence,” and I think that some of the white voices that were quick to speak could have benefitted from some time to understand and reflect on what it is they were actually saying. Remember, I’m asian. The resting state of an average Asian American is passive and submissive. We have, in many ways, been dominated by the all-powerful white voice and way of thinking. White culture’s resting state, in my experience, has often been presumptuous and quick to speak, and far too quick to offer solutions before trying to understand how it might affect someone different than them. From my point of view, white people have always felt the need to be the heroes in whatever space they occupy, they presume that their opinions are necessary and should be prioritized, and I see that m.o. being fleshed out in this race conversation as well. White people have never been good at listening before they attempt to offer solutions. And so suddenly, virtually overnight, white people all across America started to care about racial justice and fighting oppression, feeling the need to raise their voices loud and clear, while the majority of them had not gone so far as to dip a pinky toe into the justice conversation at any previous moment in their lives. If you’re reading this and you’re white, the following may push a button, but please remember that I do not share the same perspective as you. I am a minority, and as a minority, you grow up feeling like things only truly matter when the white people around you decided that it mattered, and I am grieved that this power dynamic only seems to repeat itself this time. It feels like the things that minorities like myself had been fighting, whether externally or internally, our whole lives are finally given some dignity… but only because white people decided that it was time. This reveals, still, where all the power rests. I suppose what I’m suggesting is that you begin to listen. Listening is not an American pastime. It’s not built into how we interact with each other. Listening gets in the way of an American’s agenda, and it opens up the possibility that you might be wrong. Listening also opens up the possibility for you to hear that you participated in the problem. And if there is anything that is Un-American, it’s letting someone who isn’t like you offer you a different perspective. White people, you must see that the majority of you have always been in a position of power, and when you hold all the power, listening becomes a chore, an inconvenient thing you have to do so that you can continue on with your lives. But I implore you. Listen before you speak. Listen before you post. Maybe don’t speak. Maybe don’t post. Release yourself from the pressure to be the hero. You cannot be. Sit with people. I see all these posts from my white friends on social media offering solutions and opinions and wonder what percentage of them have had any sort of real, open and honest conversation with a minority friend about their experience. And then I think about most of the white people I know and see that they don’t actually know how to engage with other cultures, and a lot of that is due to the fact that Americans have seldom truly listened to anyone other than themselves. Listening is a posture that is yet to be learned. I’ve grown up with white people. I have had hundreds of white friends. I’ve lived with mostly white people. I’ve worked at churches with white people. Most of my best friends are white. I’ve dated mostly white people. And of all these people, do you know how many of them have ever thought to stop and ask me, intentionally, about my experience being Asian American? I can count them on one hand. I’ve had white people say racist things right to my face while my other white friends stood there silently, and then we’d all go on pretending like nothing ever happened. I confronted someone this last week about a comment he made to me that I felt to be racist. He responded with, “I know I know” and a quick apology. I felt like I was inconveniencing him by even bringing it up. No follow up questions. No conversation. I just felt like he was trying to get out of that position as quickly as possible. Our phone conversation lasted two minutes and eleven seconds. I only remember that because of how weird I felt when I hung up. I want you to hear that I’m not blaming these people. I’m blaming the culture. In a way, we are all victims of a larger system that is in place. There have been so many times where I wonder if it’s even worth the trouble of having the conversation. I feel like I could never truly understand what it’s like to be white and I feel like a white person will never be able to understand what it’s like to not hold the power. But in this time, I have found some hope. A couple weeks ago, my friend asked me about my experience being Asian American. Simply and humbly. He didn’t bow down before me and repent for the entire history of white people, he didn’t slice his hand open and offer me a blood oath to never think a racist thought again. Tt wasn’t a big thing, it wasn’t an event, and he never posted about it on instagram afterwards. In essence, it wasn’t about him. He just asked me, “what’s it like to be you right now?” And he gave me 10 minutes to talk, without interruptions, without justifications, without defenses… he just let me talk. And right then and there in that parking lot of the Value Village, I experienced healing. So if you’re still with me, and you’re white, and you’re wondering, what do I do with this? I humbly propose to you that you stop assuming that everyone around you has had the same experience as you, especially the minorities. Even if they go to your school, even if they are on the “inside” of your community, even if they share the same faith, even if they appear happy to be the token, even if race doesn’t seem like a big deal to them. I would almost certainly say to you that 1. race is absolutely a big deal to them and they’re afraid to tell you for fear of being silenced yet again and 2. they are dying to be heard. It’s the nature of the system - us minorities have been taught be quiet, to not be too different. We’ve been told to minimize our experiences, to pretend that racism doesn’t exist or doesn’t hurt us, and we’ve come to believe that ultimately no one cares to listen. But you have the power to change this. I have so much hope based on the tiny the things I’ve seen. Those of you who’ve been willing to read this, who’ve encouraged me, and who are have said, “I’m here to learn.” You’re my hope. You’re our hope. So, what if you began to listen? What if you took the time to let someone different than you tell you what it’s like to be them? What if you forfeited your position of power? And what if for once you let someone else write some of the rules? It may seem small, but I imagine an entire culture learning, slowly, how to assume a new posture. And this gives me hope for all of us. Thank you for listening to me. This was critical for me. With Love, AB

Here’s that picture. One of my favorites recently. This is my dog Marley who has been rolling hard with me for a long long time now. Love this dog. It has been a beautiful spring, and there have been many meals eaten in the quiet all alone right here on this little stoop in front of my house. Since everything slowed down, I’ve begun to notice so much around me. The colors, the sounds, and beauty that’s right in my front yard. It really is all so amazing if you were to take five seconds to think about it. I’ve been challenging myself to stop and look at and appreciate things for at least fifteen seconds at a time. I have found myself looking at a lot of trees. Trees are INSANE YO! They all seem bigger now, or am I just going crazy? Anyways, I heard that it takes that sort of intentionality for our brains to really soak in something good, whereas negative emotions and experiences are felt immediately. I heard it in a podcast, so who knows if that’s actually true, but I really like the idea anyway. I don’t think we sit and appreciate things as we ought to… always wishing we had something better when what we need it right in our front yards (that could be a metaphor). But, you may have not come here for metaphors. You came here for the most epic May update in all of history. My May update! I’ll be sharing about new music, recent studio adventures, things I’m thinking about in life, about buzzing my hair, and about moving from Athens. Hope you enjoy and as always, thanks for reading. New Music I’m working on a new record. Since March, I’ve produced an entire new record. 7 songs made it on. I’ve found new sounds, new expressions. I’ve lived in the studio. There was a point there where I think it was getting a little unhealthy to be honest. Or… awesome… I don’t know. I’d just make and make and make noises until 3 or 4 in the morning for weeks on end. That little part is over, and I can’t imagine doing it now, but something about those few weeks back in March were really really special. This has been one of the most unblocked, joyful, and pure expressions I have ever experienced. It reminds me of when I was first starting making my own music in college, when I created from such a pure wide-eyed place, since music at that time wasn’t yet connected to my value or identity. I feel like over the years I’ve gone through such a journey with this and have found that pure place again. I would say, without hesitation, that I reached new heights on all levels with this record. I am so proud of what I’ve discovered and created, and found a new space as far as producing, writing and mixing. This new album is about love. Love and the perspective it can bring. Love and the newness it can bring. Love and the pain it can bring. Love and the endless lessons it will teach. It also is about nostalgia and saying goodbye. I feel like this record, in more ways than anything I’ve released, is truly me. I don’t know when I will release it, but I am going to go all in on this thing, giving you the best I’ve got. That’s all I can say for now, but I want to get you excited too. I’ve been recording the record mostly at my house (bloom sounds) and looping in some dear friends for some other elements. But there was one day where I had an idea to rent my friends studio a little outside of town… a giant warehouse filled with all sorts of wild instruments. Gongs, harps, synths, pianos… so much. I went in there for a whole day and just made sounds. It was so fun. Then my friends came and helped sing on my album. That was one of my favorite days. Here are some photographs from that time. The Studio I’m starting up work again as a producer. Definitely had to lay low due to the virus, but I’ve been making some things with some of my good friends recently. If you want to hear what I’ve been working on, here are some links to songs I’ve produced in this time. Sometimes I forget how much a privilege it is to produce. Sometimes I forget the magic and the beauty of music and the power we have to create things that didn’t exist before we decided to try to make them exist. That’s pretty crazy. I’m been coming back to such a deep sense of thankfulness that people trust me with their art. Thank you fam if you are reading. It is a true privilege to serve you in this way. Check out these songs and add them to your playlists. And WAY more coming after the summer. recent faves, produced and mixed by yours truly at Bloom Sounds click the album art and it will take you to Spotify Lighthearted - “Asking For A Friend” Joani Ray - “Joani Ray EP” Trisha Adams - “Just Happy To Be Here” Mike Murphy - “Seams” all these covers have a similar color scheme whoa ^ I’m Moving! And I guess here is some bigger practical news. I’ve decided to move on from Athens and head to Atlanta to explore more things and begin a new chapter in my life. There will probably be way more writing about this transition later. But long story short, I began to feel the tug - to something new, to something unknown. I began to feel this unease in my gut about being here and began to ask myself the question, “how far could I really go?” I have grown to believe more and more in who I am and what I can do, and there is something in me that is really wondering how high I can go with my music. And it’s not necessarily about becoming famous or saying that I made it big… but I began to see in the last few years the power of integrating my passions with my faith with love and also my authentic self. It is really powerful and people need it, and I think I could do some really good things in the music industry given how I feel like I have been uniquely gifted and made. I want to be real salty. At first, it was going to be Los Angelos, and may be in the future, but after some considering and also given the factors thrown into the mix by our old friend COVID-19, I landed on Atlanta. It’s a larger city, and also will allow me to be close to home. I think I’m more connected to the south than I had wanted to admit. I plan to continue to grow my recording business and my career as a producer and an independent artist and writer. I also plan to dive more into my passion for making hip-hop, a newly discovered love of mine, or I should say, revisited. I feel a sense of fascination with this art and have felt for a while now, actually, that I could do some really good in that world. The last nine years in Athens have been so important and so full. I would not have done any of this any different. I felt like I was able to grow in so many ways as an artist and a producer and also was able leave a small legacy behind me. My friends and I, from every single season of this place, wrote a beautiful chapter here. But anyways, it’s a little early for my goodbye speech, which I’m sure I will want to write later. I just wanted to let you know! And if you are a pray-er and have some extra prayers, I would kindly ask that you would pray for the right doors to open and that God might provide life-giving opportunities that allow my passions and personality to really thrive and work in a powerful way. I believe music and the process of making music can change people’s lives. I’ve seen it! All My Hair Is Gone I buzzed my hair here is a picture! i know i know i know i know the long hair was cool, but I have had it for years and I just wanted to do this. And not to be all meta about this and make it deeper than it needs to be, but I think personally it was an exercise in letting go. When I was deciding to do it, I really did have to consider how much I really did feel connected to how I looked. I was kind of afraid of being less attractive or looking weird, so I wanted to do something that would help me see that all that stuff doesn’t really matter. I don’t know if I’m weirder than other people, or just a human who feels like they don’t have much to lose by being honest on the internet, but I feel like I’ve put so much value into how people look, including myself. Spending so much time trying to make myself more attractive, or putting way too much weight on how attractive girls are… ascribing someone’s value to how good they can look. And I feel like I’m growing through all this, and yes maybe it’s just natural, but it’s something I’ve noticed about myself and would like to grow out of. I want to see people for people. And I guess with my hair, I just thought the fact that it made me reconsider my value based on whether I had beautiful hair was a sign that it was a good idea to shave it off. So there it is! Don’t worry I have plans to grow this fuzz ball to a beautiful beautiful thing later. But for now, I will enjoy the sports with no more hair ties and the showering without blow drying, and no more clogs, and no more of my hair everywhere. Oh yeah, and I might not get anymore samurai jokes when playing basketball in public. Also, swear I can run twice as fast. Things I’ve Been Thinking About (Extra credit) So many. But here’s some. My entire adult life I have been trying to figure out if I’m a good hearted person who does bad things or a bad hearted person trying their best to do good. I’ve always struggled with this, because I’ve definitely done things that I would consider bad. I’ve disappointed myself, people close to me. I’ve failed, gone back on my word, disrespected people, hid. I’ve done and seen things that you’d probably never think I’d do or see. There have been so many times where I’ve turned out to not be what I seem to be. On the other hand, I’ve also displayed so many meaningful moments… so many authentic gestures of love, support, encouragement and positivity out into the world. And that’s always been so confusing because on one hand I feel like I know myself and my heart feels healthy, loving, and willing. But then sometimes, often out of nowhere, crash. It just makes me wonder sometimes where that bad stuff comes from, that’s all. And yes, it’s probably a mixture of hundreds or thousands of different factors, but this duality I’ve experienced in myself is discouraging and frustrating so much of the time. And to address my original question: am I a good hearted person who does bad things or a bad hearted person trying their best to do good? I’m not sure if there really is an answer. Maybe my peace is found in the truth that we are all paradoxes. We all say things and then do the opposite. We all fail. We all have secrets. and in reality… we’re all really scared of a lot of things and that makes us do insane things. Maybe the understanding of this duality lies in the reality that somehow, someway… despite every time evil has triumphed over good in my life… today I had a shot at a full, purposeful, and meaningful life. I felt love, received love, and gave love. I felt and heard God amidst all of the pain and discomfort I felt, even today. And that means something out there really, really cares about me, and believes in me, and might even think that I’m an amazing person who has the capacity to do bad things… an amazing and precious person who was made for good, that will still inevitably do more bad things as he continues to try his best to live a life that matters. And that is life. That is being human. I am really hoping this doesn’t come off as dramatic or self deprecating, but I don’t think I will ever arrive at a place where I will be able to say, I’m 100% a good person. Never. I’ve been waiting all my life and it hasn’t happened yet so that’s telling me something about how this thing is shaking down. I will always be failing over and over again. Learning lessons. Breaking things along the way. But as I think about my life, I realize that I have come quite a long way with this thought. Personal failures used to really break me. They’d freeze me and send me into depression. Failures would cost entire periods of my life, spent in shame and self sabotage. I would attach my identity to my failures so heavily and would believe a lot of the nasty lies I’d hear in my head. But I’m seeing now that I respond way different to failure now. I’m seeing, in small ways as I grow, that my failures are not me, and that I’m learning, slowly, how to separate my identity from my failures. I’m seeing the difference between my actions and my heart, and am allowing myself to believe this about myself - that I really didn’t wake up this morning wanting to bring pain into this world, and that I was just in pain myself and sometimes it wells up so strong that it spills out.” I’m learning what it’s like to extend grace to myself, and to receive grace from God and from others. I’m feeling a little naive even writing about trying to even define a good or bad person because life becomes really gray really quick. Anyone who has experienced deep pain, tragedy, or sudden change can tell you that. Nothing is black and white. We cannot define things so absolutely, even ourselves. This paradox is what we’re talking about when we say that life really is a mystery. But what I have come to believe is that each person, no matter their past, still has a chance of becoming a part of something incredibly light or tragically dark. Nothing we have done or not done could earn or destroy our eligibility to be a part of the good story. The one that will last. So then, why not, if given the chance, become something brilliant?

Today has been truly blessed. Each day feels like a true blessing right now. Something about this time is very important for me. I bought a Wurlizter piano today… from the 70’s. It’s been a dream of mine to own one of these beautiful instruments for a while. Thank God for facebook marketplace and a time where people might see some treasures collecting dust that they want to get rid of. I feel so blessed. One note is out of tune beyond my ability to slide the reed into place, but that’s the only issue with it. It sounds beautiful. Anyways, onto what I’m writing about. Late night thoughts. Actually, this thought in particular was spurred on by a conversation with a good friend of mine about navigating relationships and people’s expectations of what you’re supposed to be. Ideals. we have so many of them - the way we think things need to be for us to be happy, fulfilled, and secure. From a young age, ideals are given to us to help us build an identity and to help us find a position in this vast world. They help us make things black and white in a world that is full of infinite color. But, what happens when we begin to find that life is not as simple as we thought? What happens when our experiences begin to contradict all the ideals we once thought to be absolute and uncompromising? Life is funny this way. It seems that almost anytime we begin to feel like we’ve figured things out, another mystery is around the corner waiting to show us that we aren’t as enlightened as we’d like to think. At least… that’s how my life is. Today, I thought it would be interesting to revisit the ideals that my 18 year old self would have held. I thought it would be both humorous and enlightening to put myself in his shoes and make an honest list of all the ideals that I held then - to list the black and white truths I was so sure of, and to also list the things I thought I needed in order for my life to be meaningful. Then I thought I’d take that list compare it to a list of the ideals I hold now - on this day, May 3rd of 2020. So, on the first list are things I thought I knew or things I thought I needed in life to be meaningful when I was 18, compared to how I view those same things now on the second list. It works best if you read each ideal on the first list compared to the corresponding response on the second list. 18 year old Andrew’s ideals: I need to become famous to be valuable I need to become famous for God. The more famous I am, the more I can do for God. If I live a good life, God will be pleased God loves me because I don’t do the bad stuff that most other people do. I need to marry someone to experience love I need to marry someone really hot to feel like a man, to feel like I won a game. I need everyone to like me. I need to become as desirable as possible. Develop skills to become attractive to the kinds of people that rejected you when you were young (informs #9) Girls like guys who play music. Lean into this identity because it makes you more desirable, which makes you more valuable to the space you’re in. I need to agree with you to be in relationship with you. People who drink, do drugs, and have sex are worse people than people who don’t. When I grow up, I need to have a massive platform 27 year old Andrew’s ideals: fame doesn’t equal meaning. people knowing your name is just that… people knowing your name. I need to become present for God. The more present I am, the more useful I become. God is pleased. God loves me because God is good. I’ve been experiencing love my whole life. I’ll marry someone who suddenly makes it all worth it. I’ve been watching marriages closely and it’s true what they’ve always said. It’s hard. It’s a sacrifice. But I do believe that while love requires sacrifice, love will feel worth it. Worth it all. Until I feel that, I will appreciate the time I have now. Not everyone will like me. In the same way I cannot understand other good intentioned people, people won’t understand a good-intentioned me. and that’s that. If I continue investing so much time and effort into making myself appear desirable, I will continue feeling alone. I play music because I love it, not because it makes you lovable. I just love it now. I want to see everyone’s “big picture.” We are all more than our opinions and behind all of that, we’re just people wanting to connect. People are broken. Partying takes the edge off. There are people who don’t party that I can’t stand and there’s people who party hard that have amazing hearts. And there’s everything in between. I can’t judge anyone, but I know that at some point we all need to face our lives soberly if we want to grow. When I grow up, I want to embody love. It’s so wild how much we change. How life changes us. When I was 18 I thought I knew how it all worked. And today as I’m writing this I’m thinking, “wow I know so much about life now.” But, even what I believe now will likely change over the years. It feels like life gets more and more complicated, but it feels like my ideals are simplifying at the same time. It feels like I really need less now than I did before to feel like myself and to feel like my life has meaning. I’ve found myself in a place where I’ve lived through enough unseen turns to know better than to make my own plans and expect them to work out just like I thought they would. I’m also seeing now that everything I used to judge has turned out to be an issue that was within myself the whole time, not an issue out there. Our ideals will inevitably be challenged by our lives. This reflection was a reminder to me to be open-handed with my ideals, but to be uncompromising in my faith, which I often equate with love. I think both sides can and should exist simultaneously. Faith, to me, is the foundation that allows me to live somewhat joyfully and lovingly through this unpredictable, mysterious and often painful journey. Maybe I’ll do this again in ten years and see where I’m at then. Thanks for reading. AB

I’m realizing in a way that’s more real and accessible than ever. I think I’m happier than I’ve ever been and not because my circumstances suddenly became clearer and more close to what I expected. Something happens when we begin to realize that we cannot control most of the things in our lives. And when we choose to enjoy the mystery and to be fully present in each moment, not knowing what the next might bring, we find the elusive peace we were seeking in the first place. I think this is what they’ve always meant when they said that joy was a choice. I always struggled with that because I seldom felt joyful. But now, I see that I always have had a choice - not to choose my future, not to choose what other people will do, or what I get to keep and what I have to loose… but a choice in how I position myself within all the growing and dying of life itself. When you take some time to sit and let go of the need to know and to control everything, you begin to see that you’ve always had exactly what you needed. And you always will.

I’ve been playing around with some new art. I posted this on my instagram today and thought I’d put it on here as well. God is really touching my life right now, and I am so thankful. I feel like I’m being reborn. Enjoy this art! At the top of 2020 I had found myself out in the middle of nowhere. More humble people would just say, “I got lost.” In this time I began to take a good and honest look at who I was on the inside, as I began to realize that I wasn’t very proud of the life I’d chosen to live in. God felt far. And I also felt very far from myself. I began a new journey inwards. I began to lay bare my addictions, anxieties, and ways I was avoiding my own pains and insecurities. As I sifted through my gunk, terrified of the things I was discovering and admitting, I heard a constant invitation to a new start. It came in the form of this question, “Is there more out there?”I feel like God gifted me this image to give me hope and to illuminate my situation. And here is the metaphor explained: Throughout the course of our lives, we might find ourselves making homes in places that were never meant to be our homes. These are our islands. The island represents the many addictions and false realities we adopt to cope with our pain. We find ourselves stranded, afraid, and desperate. As time passes, this darkness becomes our new normal. We grow weary, tired of fighting, and begin to make our home in these places of addiction, medication, and avoidance, eventually losing our ability to imagine a life beyond what we can immediately see. We settle into our islands. We were castaways who become citizens.This painting is a self portrait, depicting me in this tiny rowboat paddling my way away from my island, barely escaping its tides and gravity. The open ocean behind me is vast and terrifying, but I know I had to leave that place or I would die there. And this encapsulates one of the most beautiful invitations of life to me: that there is an opportunity to change, always. We always have a choice, it’s just that the cost of change is all of you. The question then becomes: will you get in the boat, leave everything that is both familiar and hindering, paddle as if your life depended on it, and never look back?

No matter what, you always have a choice.

This morning I woke up worried about my life. It felt like the tunnel was closing in and I was scared about the future. Is everything going to be ok? But as the day went on, I sat outside in the sun, I prayed, facetimed my friend, talked to him about God, and had some coffee. Now at 4pm I feel hope and feel like everything is possible. I don’t know if it’s the praying or the coffee or the facetime, but it’s probably all of it. All of these little things. And sometimes, that’s all it takes.

The best is yet to come.

it’s 3 oclock in the morning. I’m been working on music for 17 hours today. Really, these days I’m having some really amazing experiences of getting lost in what I’m making. I’m really excited about the new music I’m making. Anyways, I thought I was done tracking my album today but then as I was re-loading the things back into my studio from my recording I had a new song idea. I wrote it and demoed it all night (I guess morning) and here we are. This song is about letting go and believing the best for everything that is to come.

I want to do some more spontaneous blog-outs on the roll. Just things I’m observing or realizing in the moments, and probably not share. So if you’ve found this you’re an OG! Mac Miller’s 2009 is the soundtrack. Tonight I prayed in a way I haven’t prayed in a long time. I cried. It was so good to feel close to God in a way that reminded me of when I was younger. I have a friend, Ms. Helen… she’s actually my friend Missy’s mom (if that gives you some perspective). Sometimes I call her my Athens mom. Miss Helen has always loved me. From the time I worked at the church, she just always took the time to pray for me, to encourage me, to take me to lunch, and have me over for dinner. Tonight, she made me dinner and let me dry some laundry at her house. Later, I played the keyboard and we worshipped and prayed. I started to cry. I felt God, I felt loved, I felt hope. Miss Helen doesn’t know about all my failures, weaknesses and struggles… but tonight, I think I realized that it might not make a difference if she did. I think I realized, she would always love me. All I’m saying really is that sometimes it’s ok to have people in your corner that think the world of you, and to not feel bad about it. And sometimes it’s ok to feel like you need to surround yourself with those kinds of people in certain times. I’m starting to see that I have a really hard time wrapping my head around the fact that people might love me enough to see the best in me no matter how I fail. I’m starting to see more and more, that love actually isn’t that fair.

*taken in Seattle in June of 2019. I love how these truths resurface in the right time. “Be The Good.” 35mm on a Canon AE-1. As I write this I am overlooking the Caribbean from the third story balcony of my hotel in Port Maria, Jamaica, where I will be all this week. My room faces the ocean, so the sun rises through the window and the ocean breeze blows constantly here as I write. I wear no shirt. Here, a shirt is a thorn in my side. A shirt is a vibe-desecrator. A shirt is the enemy. I am shirtless as often as humanly possible. It definitely could be way worse. It’s been a while since I’ve written, and it hasn’t been due to negligence of the blog. I love writing this blog. It is one of my great joys to put my thoughts into writing and to hear that some people out there are also feeling and seeing the things that I am. The fact is that I have been going through a lot of deep, personal growth over the course of the past few months. Growth that has been brought on by the intense revealing of my own darkness, shortcomings, and failures - what some of us might call sin. I’ve had so many thoughts regarding God, and what I felt Him doing in my life, but felt like I couldn’t say a lot of it with integrity during that time due to the head space I was choosing to live in and as a result - the decisions I was making. I have been through a time where I wasn’t sure who I was, what I really wanted to be about, and whether anything mattered. I thought for a moment that everything was meaningless. I felt blind and a little lost. God felt fiction to me. I felt so incredibly small, wondering whether my actions would change anything at all in this massive world. I felt that though I had tried my best in life to live for God, it still was so ambiguous, painful and uncertain, so I figured I’d at least get some pleasure for myself amidst all of the mess. I really just lived for me for a while. So with that, came a doubt about whether I had any authority to write about my own faith, much less write about lessons I’m learning with God that might house suggestions for how others are to go about their lives with God in the picture. It just wasn’t a good time. However, over the course of the past few weeks, brought on by probably a thousand small circumstances that I am not fully aware of, and a completely ordained trip to Dallas, Texas, I’ve had a really personal, visceral experience with the grace, goodness and closeness of God. To put it shortly, I felt like I was a sheep that had wandered off alone, only to find myself suddenly and violently yanked back into the fold by the shepherd’s staff - unexpected, unpredicted, and unearned. Someone woke me up. I don’t want to go into the details of this dark time in my life because one, I don’t think it’s always appropriate share your deepest darkest secrets on the internet (though sometimes it can be very beautiful) and two, I’m trying to receive this grace by moving forward in a way that recognizes and accepts who I was in my time of weakness while also acknowledging the wonderful and beautiful truth of the gospel that Jesus invites me into - that I am not my mistakes. I wanted to write about my experience of crawling out of my hole of meaninglessness, and how this experience ties into the principles of stewardship and gratitude. I wasn’t able to reason my way out of my doubts and darkness, and I believe God had to do something deeply spiritual in my soul, but as I have begun to heal and walk out of this dark passage in my forest, I have begun to connect these crucial dots in hindsight. I would like to share these connections with you. IOU. Meaninglessness, Stewardship, Gratitude. As I mentioned before, the last few months for me have been a time during which I questioned the meaning in everything I had previously thought my life was about. I questioned my faith, my purpose, and whether or not trying to do life well was worth it at all. Though I am an artist, there is a really strong critical and analytical side of me, and it doesn’t take an observant person long to realize how messed up our world is. While a critical view of the world can be helpful when coupled with graciousness and the desire to use that viewpoint to improve the world around us, it can become very dangerous and destructive when wielded with a bitter spirit.  I think, for a little while, I had been wielding my critical gift with a bitter heart, and all it did was isolate me and distort my view of who I was, who God was, and as a result - who people around me were. I stopped showing up to stuff. My body would be places and I would be going through the motions, but it felt like my spirit was absent. I felt like a ghost, and wished that in a lot of places I could simply disappear. I described this time in the previous paragraph as my “hole of meaningless,” and it was just that. I started to believe that everything was meaningless, so I’d treat everything as meaningless, then I would act like even more things in life were meaningless. I lost the key ingredient of respect. Respect for my on life, respect for the people and places right in front of me. I was digging my own grave.  But for some reason, and this could be what come might call “snapping out of it,” but I call, “salvation” - over the last couple of weeks I have been led to consider and revisit all of the people and places that have allowed me to be where I am today. My influential teachers, my first youth group, my first youth pastor, my beautiful college experience, my first internship mentor, my parents, my friends who have believed in me over the years, the people who opened doors for me, the people who gave me chances before I was ready, and the countless moments of grace that afforded me a way upward and onwards. I’ve been remembering all of the opportunities that I’ve had, never earned, to see the world and learn about myself and God. I’ve been trying to recount the many unsolicited encouragements, kindnesses, and breadcrumb moments that seemed to appear in the perfect time to lead me through my life. And as I have become more and more painfully aware that I did not design my own life, and very little of what I have I have earned on my own, I have came to a wonderful and demanding conclusion: I do not get to disappear. In the Christianity that I live in, as well as American culture as a whole, the idea of owing anyone anything is vastly foreign. In a country that so values individualism and each person’s right to realize their own personal dreams and agendas, I feel like we’ve lost some of the beauty of stewarding our lives in light of all the people and circumstances that made our lives even possible. In the name of freedom, I feel that we’ve lost a sense of belonging to a group and a purpose that extends beyond our individual identities. I believe this often times can distort our view of our own lives, leading us to be concerned solely with how our actions affect the “me” and not the “us.” In regards to my experience over the last few months, and my deep sense of meaninglessness, I found that the more I began to live like I didn’t have a responsibility to those around me, the world, and people that made me, the more and more alone and meaningless I began to feel. It was only through a deep and profound reminder of all that was sacrificed for me that I was able to begin to move out of my isolation and selfishness. So, in light of my new perspective, I’ve decided that for me, I am going to make “owe” a non-cuss word in my life. To our western ears, “owe” is a harsh word. But the more I think about it and how much I’ve been given… it just feels right. It feels honorable. It feels respectful. I owe it you, I owe it to me, I owe to anyone who has ever believed in me, I owe it to God… to be fully awake to the opportunities and the adventures laid out before me. I owe it to myself and to the world to turn on my heart and to engage as fully as it is possible for me… to steward my days, and to steward my life. We’ve all wasted our precious life in our own ways - living out of our fears, living out of our “cant’s”, living to please people who don’t really care about us, living to fit into a cultural illusion, ignoring what we know we need to change, avoiding pain, protecting ourselves, trying to control our worlds, try to control others, consuming, pursuing endless pleasures, taking, sweeping things under the rug, sleepwalking… the list goes on and on. So for those of us that feel like, if we were honest, we were given something good, however small or hidden… who might also feel like they are just moments away from throwing in the towel: Would you take some time to consider the fact that someone somewhere laid a foundation for you. Someone somewhere broke bread off of their own lives to feed you. Consider the idea that the world might be holding up signs for you that say, “it is worth it,” but you might not be able to see it because you can only see yourself in this time. And as you open up yourself to feel the weight of how much you really have been given, might you adopt the same convicting sentiment, that you do not get to disappear. Lord, God, would you allow the grace for a shift in our perspectives to happen… to begin to see the abundance and not the lack. Would this awareness help us to understand our responsibilities, which are our divine opportunities to affect and heal our worlds. For those of us who are struggling to find meaning in our lives, would we combat this temptation to give up with an acute awareness of what we healthily owe, and let this awareness move us out of our selfishness and complacency. I can’t help but thinking that: if we knew just how loud God and our clouds of witnesses were cheering for us, it’d be a lot harder for us to fall asleep. It would be damn near impossible to want to disappear. IOU.Wake up.

Happy 2020. I’ve been wanting to do a little writing for a little while now, I just haven’t quite had the energy to jump in. I knew I wanted to write on this topic at this time to, in some ways put a period on a chapter in my life that I feel like is closing. I have just gotten over the flu that 2020 graciously gave me and today is the first day it doesn’t feel like my brain is being cooked on both sides, so I am happy happy. At risk of being cliche and a little sappy, I will admit… I love the new year. Yeah I know, you can change anytime yadda yadda start today blah blah don’t wait for the new year yah yah yah… yes! All that is good… But I actually really enjoy the collective hope that seems to fill the community even if just for a brief moment whenever a new year occurs. I mean, c’mon, you can’t feel it too? It’s like everything does start over in some weird way. At least it feels that way to me. This is always a sobering time, a moment to reflect on the previous year, to see all that went well and all that could have gone better and to regain a **cue the cheese* thankfulness for life itself. At the top of 2019 I wrote a blog called “Taking Off The Band-Aids” about refusing cheap and temporary fixes. It was a challenge to myself to leave old addictions and comforts that were only acting as band-aids for my wounds - a challenge to commit to the slow hard work of healing, and to not take the easy way out of my pain. I haven’t thought much of that post since last January but now a year later I’m thinking about it and wondering, “did I actually commit to that idea in a deeper way this year?” Like, “Did I actually do what I wrote about?” And the scary thing to admit is honestly… yes and no. While conquering some addictions I only discovered new ones, and by finding healing in one area, I only opened up other deeper wounds hidden beneath the surface. This can seem like some cruel and unusual joke but… it is life. There is always more to learn, and we will never arrive. I think this is part of what it means when we use the word depth. But anyways, here’s my take on the year and the word I’ve found to embody its lesson. In 2019 I produced a bunch of records, finished my own full length record “Never A Waste,” toured Germany with my original music, saw the Eiffel Tower, visited Seattle, went on tour with Will Reagan, travelled with Common Hymnal, and had countless joyous moments with friends. In the same year I burnt out on music, burnt out on producing, burnt out on people, burnt out on myself, battled a newly discovered anxiety, struggled relationally, lost touch with some of my core values and identity, wrestled with God. I saw so much this year, on both sides of the coin. The most jarring and probably the most important experience of 2019 for me, though, beyond anything to do with traveling, music, or “dream come true moments,” was this strange and eerie feeling of I can’t. I turned 26 this year, and for the first time, I was able to feel the subtle limits of age, time and life, begin to press in on the edges. In my early twenties, I saw everything as malleable. All the rules, all the designs of life, the things that said “you can’t do that.” All of those boundaries seemed like suggestions. In your early twenties, If you are lucky enough, you have virtually limitless energy, ample resources, the autonomy and the freedom to explore and take risks in virtually every area of life. I see this now, but I was so blessed to have had the opportunity to go to college where I did (Go Dawgs). It was like a playground for me. I dove deep into design, music, engineering, producing, film photography, relief printmaking, screen-printing, bookmaking, ministry… all these things. And at that time, I had the capacity to just do everything. Looking back, my energy level just baffles me now. I’d go to class, produce a song, and then work an a 2ft by 4ft watercolor painting on wood for the rest of the night, develop film, make prints, go to band practice, then go out with my friends after and do it all again the next day. Crazy. And in that environment, the thought “I can’t” never really crossed my mind. Not in a proud way, I just think that my environment was such a perfect incubator for me to explore all the things I was interested in, and in a beautiful way, I never thought to question the opportunity that was in front of me. But this is the great shadow that I had to begin to look at in 2019. This was the year of realizing limits. It was a year of realizing that that 22 year old kid who had the energy and the capacity to do 30 things at once, couldn’t exist for much longer. I am seeing that most of the dreams I had for my life when I was 20 haven’t come true… and that in reality, most of them aren’t going to come true. As a “dreaming” generation, especially coming from privileged backgrounds, we tend to interact with our dreams as if they are owed to us. As if by having the courage to allow ourselves to want a dream, that we are entitled to see them come to fruition. I saw this begin to hurt my life in a lot of ways this year. For example, with music. In my mind, by 26 I’d be a world superstar by this point. I mean, it only makes sense right. God owes me this much at least. But what happens when you’re still making indie records and touring with your friends in your truck, driving 3 hours to play for 20 people, at the age where you thought in your dreams you would be playing stadiums? That expectation is going to kill you. I started viewing myself as “being behind” and just lost gratefulness for what really mattered: the opportunity to make music and to go on adventures with people I care about. I’m seeing that nothing in this life is promised and to just be happy about any good thing that comes my way. 2019 was also the first time in my life where I began to realize my physical limitations. I need to sleep now to function. It’s weird. I can’t eat McDonalds chicken nuggets anymore without having meat sweats for the next two days. My body has decided suddenly to hate alcohol and grease. I have to take care of what I allow into my body - physically, emotionally or spiritually. I’m not that strong. I am affected by these things, and it affects my life. I don’t have the energy I used to. I dealt with some health issues this year that were out of my control that made it nearly impossible to play music in front of people without wanting to pass out. This was so jarring. For the first time in my life, I simply couldn’t will myself to be stronger, to push through, and to be well again. Things were no longer that simple. I was learning quickly that life was not going to be as easy as “point to something you want and you will get it in the mail 2 days later.” As someone with many aspirations and a long list of interests, learning the lesson of limits felt like a death sentence. I spent a lot of this year kicking and screaming, not wanting to yield to the inevitable… that time is moving. I am changing - my body, my mind, my priorities, my values - are all changing. I wanted to be 24 forever. But after a while, the shoe no longer fit, and I was forced to evolve, powerless against my life’s tide. You may be feeling that you can’t be all that you wanted to be. What a terrifying thought to even entertain. But think about it. In every single area of our lives we fall short. We all wish we were better - a better friend, a better singer, a better writer, and better this, a better that - whatever it is for you. Maybe you thought you’d have a better job, a bigger house, or a more impressive life. But the truth is, we all have our limits, and we simply will not see everything that we dream of come to fruition. And I want to argue that this is ok. And not just ok, but an invitation to live with a deep purpose and meaning. Sorry if this seems like a hopeless thought, I have found it to be quite the opposite. Learning to embrace my limitations and the inevitable death of some of my dreams has allowed me to refocus on what really matters. Love and relationships. I don’t know if I can explain it how I want to, but as this year has loosened my white knuckle grip on needing to get everything I want out of life, I’ve begun to see the beauty in the people and places God has given to me. Suddenly, everything has meaning because the dreams that were beyond the mundane have begun to disappear. I mean, this is my life happening here. And I don’t know if this is selling out, growing old, or just getting tired of constantly being let down by the notion of having “big dreams,” but everything feels more meaningful to me now. There’s not so much pressure now. I don’t have to me impressive. I don’t have to make a global impact. I don’t have to be superhuman. I just feel like I’m living a real life. When you come to terms with what you aren’t and what you can’t do, and make peace with the little space God gave you in this world, you realize the great power within what you are and what you can do. And that, is a life well lived. I know it wasn’t a “2020 vision change the world this year” post, but it is the reality of my time. And wow, what a wonderful time. Thanks for reading, AB