We are in a band, my husband and I and we are recording a few songs in an impressive put-together studio in the basement of the guy who formed this band. I don’t like to record. It just takes a lot of effort to make it the way you want it to be. When you sing and play live, there it is. You do your thing and within a nanosecond it is gone, good or bad, vanishing quickly into thin air, with but a trace of an echo as the next note is played.
Not so when you record. When you record it’s just so permanent. It stays to be listened to over and over, as long as there is someone there to listen. The guitar player, who is like a coach really, giving us ways to pronounce, enhance, feel what we’re singing. He gave me the flip side to laying it down on tracks. It is there forever, just the way you want it to sound, because you get a second chance.
It’s like the book I just finished reading, Choosing To SEE by Mary Beth Chapman. Not just the story of the tragic event of the death of their five year old daughter, but a life-line of hope in a world full of dark.
You may not get a do-over in the life we walk out daily; a chance to go back and erase the mis-sung notes, to be replaced by the ones of your choice, but you get to choose to do it again, one step at a time and that is what makes this journey amazing, with all of it’s imperfections.