I taught myself how to play piano using a chord chart, and my church plopped me down in front of the organ. Just play the chords! Organs are easy, right?<\/p>\n
I did it. I got good at it. And then eventually I got to play the church piano at age 15. After I’d been doing it for a few years, I had an opportunity to go to a Saturday seminar in Anchorage. They were going to teach us how to lead worship even better.<\/p>\n
I’d picked up a few things. The bass player had been part of a band, and he gave me tips on free worship (now I might call it interstitial) music should be structured. Major 1 and major 4 progressions are thoughtful. Throw in a major 7 chord and it sounds like triumph. I had seen how the congregation or audience responded, and I could see the musical affect.<\/p>\n
While I played, I was thrilled to have the chance to practice by performance. I could do this thing that I loved and was needed. I was part of worship, and I felt like I was serving a higher spiritual purpose to play as well as I could.<\/p>\n
The seminar in Anchorage was intimidating. I felt like real<\/em> piano players and worship leaders were attending. They actually knew what they were doing, while I had only memorized a chord chart from the back of a songbook.<\/p>\n But when the teacher got up and started talking, my mouth filled with ash. He was so calculated.<\/p>\n The bass player hadn’t felt that way.<\/p>\n This guy told me things I already sort of knew, but instead of feeling like I was helping the Spirit he felt calculated. Like a puppet master.<\/p>\n I felt humbug and complicit. I played as usual that Sunday. I didn’t feel as I used to, part of the mighty rushing wind of inspiration. I felt like the overgrown girl assistant to the tawdry magician.<\/p>\n Well. As least the music was mine. Regardless of how the masses were swayed, I knew what I was making.<\/p>\n Why remember this now?<\/p>\n I’m preparing to tell people about The Russian American School of Tomorrow. <~MARKETING!!!~><\/p>\n The experts say to appeal to the audience\u2019s emotions and give a compelling call to action. I feel right back in humbug city.<\/p>\n The Russian American School of Tomorrow is the most authentic and real thing I’ve ever written. Now I have to take those skills I learned while writing it<\/p>\n Writing skills<\/p>\n And use them for manipulation. Or what feels like exploitation. It’s uncomfortable. I don’t like that side of human nature and I don’t like that side of my nature.<\/p>\n I don’t like how we have these strings exposed to the world, which almost anybody can pick them up and play us.<\/p>\n There must be a positive side to it. Not all manipulation is exploitation. The people that I love can play me, and I am in many ways grateful for it. Yes, I am glad to do that thing, make that food or that trip which makes my family react in that way.<\/p>\n Is it mutual manipulation? Perhaps it’s mutual gratification. Or maybe it could be called love.<\/p>\n I wrote The Russian American School of Tomorrow for the love of creating it. I knew that if I wrote it well, it would be a great story that would help a lot of people understand themselves and each other.<\/p>\n So maybe if I take the next step, and learn to love telling people (the dreaded marketing) about the story I wrote from love, it will be a good feeling. Not exploitation and manipulation, which I deplore.<\/p>\n But a true authentic gift, a favor. I’m not going to hide behind a curtain like the humbug Oz. I’ll stand in the open and let people know.<\/p>\n As soon as I figure out how.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I taught myself how to play piano using a chord chart, and my church plopped me down in front of the organ. Just play the chords! Organs are easy, right? I did it. I got good at it. And then … Continue reading