The J.Harwell.Update

Songs About People I Love: "(You're Stuck With Me) Forever"

2011-09-23T06:00:00.001-07:00

This weekend, my great friend Al is getting married to our new great friend Meghan. Here's a song I wrote and recorded for them because I love them:

&amp;lt;a href="http://jasonharwell.bandcamp.com/track/youre-stuck-with-me-forever" _mce_href="http://jasonharwell.bandcamp.com/track/youre-stuck-with-me-forever"&amp;gt;(You're Stuck With Me) Forever by J. Harwell&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

The New Yorker: A Conversation on Technology

2011-07-29T12:33:00.001-07:00

The New Yorker: A Conversation on Technology
by Russ Masterson

From The New Yorker’s recent article, The Visionary, about leading technology creator and critic, Jaron Lanier:

Lanier says social sites like Facebook and Twitter dehumanize people and create shallow interactions. He says we maintain an image of ourselves and give interest to other people’s image without real concern for true identity. “It’ll just create a more paranoid society with a fakey-fakey social life — much like what happened in Communist countries, where people had a fake social life that the Stasi could see, and then this underground life,” says Lanier.

Lanier is saying it will only become easier to have two lives: Our online life, one of veneer that creates shallowness and even fear, and our second life, the real one that we let few see. This sort of dichotomy in life and relationships will only create dishonesty and conflict. Yet freedom only comes when we are no longer fearful of being who we are all the time in every place with any person.

Friday, July 29th, 2011 . No Comments
Share on Facebook Email This Subscribe to this feed Comments Policy

via russmasterson.com

This is what I've been trying to articulate (only these guys are much smarter and well, articulate).

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Creating, Hiding, and A Plea for Error

2011-06-16T11:57:00.001-07:00

&amp;lt;a href="http://thewarmfuzzies.bandcamp.com/album/fuzz-of-the-month" _mce_href="http://thewarmfuzzies.bandcamp.com/album/fuzz-of-the-month"&amp;gt;Fuzz of the Month by the Warm Fuzzies&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

Beginning in January, my band - the Warm Fuzzies - began releasing a song a month. We appropriately called this process "The Fuzz of the Month."

I've thoroughly enjoyed it. Throughout, we've been recording essentially in real time (meaning that we're always dashing to finish the next month's track before its release date), and we're doing all the tracking in our practice space here in Athens with some mix magic afterwards from Mark Tulk and Joel Hatstat.

Nothing about our recording process is perfect - time, equipment, environment, and experience are not on our side - and there are certainly some moments here and there on these recordings that I wish I could do over. But for the most part, it's been a liberating creative experience simply because our deadline of releasing a new song on the second Tuesday of each month leaves precious little time to sit around and obsess over things too much. By necessity, our attitude is this: If I didn't get it, well, we didn't get it. There's always next month.

Take last month's track, All Summer Long, for example. While trying to finish up the track in April, I was on deadline for three weeks with various work projects, sick for five days, and traveling around for the the Easter holiday. As such, we hit the first week of May with no vocals done and only one window on the calendar to make it happen. Naturally, that would be the same day that the doom metal band down the hall in a separate practice space would hold a marathon practice. At one point, Laura stood waiting at the mic while I sat perched at the board so that when we heard them stop, I'd hit record and Laura would try to get a take done before they turned up the doom once more. It was not ideal. I wish I could have that one back; we could do it better.

So do it better next time, I tell myself. And I think we did with this month's track.

But more to the larger point, I've got to learn to embrace my errors, to let them exist out in the open for all to see. To quit pretending I'm not human. I think this is better than the alternative, which would be to sit at my computer and endlessly polish the tracks until all the errors have been eliminated and the surface becomes as smooth as a mirror. But what would this mirrored surface reflect? Certainly not myself, for I will have waxed all the humanity right off of it.

Now, maybe I'm wrong (I feel that way any time I write down my opinions). Maybe I'm trying to justify to myself that my lesser-fi recordings are supposed to be this way. But then again, I'm not trying to make mistakes; I'm just attempting to document some sort of authenticity in an increasingly processed reality (setting aside any discussions of what terms like "authenticity" and "reality" mean). I'm also not against using the tools we have. In fact, I've tuned my own vocals here and there during this project, so I'm participating even as I'm railing against the practice.

The kicker for me, though, is that my attempts to clean up my vocal tracks aren't really that much different to me than the ways we polish our lives online (whether we're talking about Facebook or Second Life or Worlds of Warcraft or whatever), and as creative people, we have to guard against this desire to do this with our art (at least if we want to make great art).

Culturally, we have become self-aware to a point where we allow our creative process to be affected by our own perception of how our works-in-progress will be received by others at some point in the future. We're making bets on what we think people want from us, and we're trying our best to craft whatever we think that is. We're hedging, but with question marks on both sides. This is fine if you're reducing your work (and by some extension, yourself) to a product or commodity, but less so if your desire is really to make good art. The two aren't mutually exclusive, but nowadays it's easy to be both the artist and the Big Bad A&R man who comes to the studio and tells you to write more hits.

You are your worst critic and your worst enemy. You are trying to stop you from making something great.

And the battle for me is in the minutiae I mentioned earlier. It's the "busyness" problem he have these days where we feel that if we're busy, we must be doing something important. Therefore we must be important. If I never finish my record, then, I'll always have something to feel busy over, something to talk about. I can seem like a really great artist because I seem to care so much, and I never have to actually put something out and risk losing that status. But I am sabotaging myself, and it's really stupid.

Let me say that again. It's really stupid. And why do I do this? So that no one will know the truth that I'm fallible? That sometimes (okay, most times) miss the correct pitch of a note? That I'm capable of sucking every now and then? Good grief.

So don't be stupid. Go make things, especially mistakes.

Be human, dang it.

(This was actually supposed to be a simple post about the Fuzz of the Month. I can't do it, people; I just can't do it.)

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

"Yeah, but what does this have to do with anything?" Umm...

2011-04-27T07:32:00.001-07:00

During lent, I tried to take a bit of a step back from the internet. Some reasons for this were in line with my great friend David's decision to drop social networking for a season; others were not nearly so conceptual (i.e., I'm was either working a lot or watching the NBA playoffs or just being lazy). So if you're one of the dedicated souls who follow this blog, please accept my humble apology. It's not you, it's me.

I've been thinking a lot about the Church, about how sometimes in the body of Christ I can be the "ass," and how I don't normally use such words on my blog. I've been thinking of the imperfect nature of being human, of how two people with hearts inhabited by Jesus can still hurt one another, and of how such hurt doesn't disappear with the stroke of a magic wand. We're all spinning gears in some respect, and when the gears don't mesh, things can get pretty nasty.

It seems that in realizing still more how deeply flawed I am there is a simultaneous realization of just how remarkable this Jesus is. That with every failure, every flaw, every bitter word that comes out of my mouth (not to mention the ones I only mutter in my heart), even moreso have I been made clean by the sacrifice of the Creator of the Universe. That when he thinks of me, he only sees the umblemished me. My head explodes when I think of that, and maybe being "successful" means coming to grips with this reality.

I've been thinking of how "prayer" is probably supposed to be my life's work (while hoping upon hope that setting business cards and invitations is not) and of how the Atlanta Hawks are always - and I mean always - a game of chance. There are no sure bets, save a few.

During these last few weeks, I've also been trying to articulate this thought that's been on the edge of my mind about the value of smallness. We have two existences these days - our actual selves and our constructed selves that we create online - and while one is limited by the constraints of geography and time and responsibilities, the constructed us is this ethereal, "anywhere" us. And I imagine our constructed selves to be a drop of ink in a big glass of water, that we dissipate and spread with the current inside the glass; that we have so little control over it. We think we do - after all, we created it - but do we, really? It is, after all, weightless. And if it carries no weight, then what strength does it possess? What does it matter?

So in music I keep wondering if there's much more weight in not trying to change the world at large, for it's always been a difficult proposition that's recently been made much, much more difficult in scope. How can you possibly reach everyone, everywhere? Is there room for an artist to write songs that are designed to impact the few rather than the masses? Should we, as Christians, be hell-bent on achieving a large audience for our art? Is there equal value in small audiences? What does God think? Does he care how many people heard a song I wrote or is he just happy that I was doing my best to be obedient to the gifts and talents he has given me, according the grace given me?

The constructed me can be anywhere, anytime. I can put my music online, and like ink in a glass pitcher, it can potentially go anywhere, anytime. I think that's great (especially now that I'm not really trying to sell any of it). But that's not the real me. The real me is going to go to one of my part-time jobs here in a couple of hours, and I'm going to set business cards and invitations and type people's resumes and things like that. But while I'm doing this, I will interact with this strange collection of interesting, ecclectic group of co-workers who are very much different from me. Does my online self matter there? Not really. This blog absolutely does not matter there. All my self-satisfying ruminations and attempts at being clever do not translate into the real world around me. They carry no weight. So how can I use the gifts and talents I have been given (and by now, I'm fairly certain the only things I've got are music and visual art. I can also still remember the code to Mike Tyson in Punch-Out, but I don't think that's a spiritual gift) in the real lives of the real people that I'm living my life with?

What the heck am I talking about? I don't know!

I'm trying to figure that out. I guess I hope that there is a place for music in my life because I'm drifting farther and farther away from the stage lights but am finding that I am more and more inspired to create.

But what, and for whom? And does it matter?

What do you think?

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Why I Never Get To Watch the PBS News Hour

2011-03-07T20:23:00.001-08:00

This is what my house is like at 6pm each day. My wife would like you to know that the house was clean five minutes earlier.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Just don't wait for a unicorn

2011-03-04T15:49:00.001-08:00

While driving recently, Kid Ridiculous dove into one of her extended free-form jams in the back seat. Here's the little bit I was able to type on my phone:

"Just don't wait for a unicorn
If you see one, try to catch up
If you see one, try to catch up
If you see one, try to catch up
Put her in a pillow
Now she can't move"

Please don't tell PETA about this.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

This is where I came from.

2011-02-08T14:11:00.001-08:00

I'm glad my dad took my mom to her prom. I'm glad they fell in love. I'm glad they're still together. I'm really glad they decided to have kids.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Explaining 80s pop music to my children

2011-02-06T14:17:00.001-08:00

They seemed confused.

Sent from my iPhone

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

So, um, what have you been up to?

2011-02-02T18:45:00.001-08:00

I seem to always have a backlog of blog posts on my desktop. Typically, I'll have some thought that I feel needs to be expounded upon and then sent out into the online abyss, some little message in a bottle that I hope at the very least becomes a smallish good thing in someone's day or week or year or life or whatever. But after plowing through 500 words or so, I'm usually convinced that whatever I'm writing is meaningless, that all the post would accomplish would a portrait of a guy who isn't aware of the fact that he's only writing 500 words to himself. Maybe so.

At any rate, I came across this one from this summer, and after reading through it, I thought maybe it wasn't the worst thing ever written. My wife says that we have the same conversation all the time, and while I think she's completely offbase, we've probably had this one (or one very similar) enough times to provide some very convincing evidence should that question ever go to court.

So here's a bunch of words... enjoy!

...............

This evening, someone asked me what I'd been up to; this is a question I dread for a multiple reasons. For one, I never developed the social skill to know whether I'm supposed to actually answer this question (and thus recount the various things I've experienced recently) or shrug and say something like, "Oh, nothing much. You?" After initially going with the the former, over the years I've been groomed to choose the latter for my own emotional safety. But secondly, even if someone genuinely wants to know about my specific comings and goings, I actually have to figure out how to distill all of the little bits and pieces of life into a quick, one-breath answer.

And even on the occasions I have boiled it all down to a sentence or two, I'm never satisfied with my answer.

What have I been up to, you ask?

This morning I hung out with my kids. Before I could even take my first sip of coffee, my daughter began filling me in on my activities for the next few hours. She used phrases like "playing restaurant in the sunroom," "see, I've already got the table set," and "you have to be the teacher when we play school because the teacher needs to be a grown-up."

Later, I dropped the kids off at the Young Life office with their lovely mom, and I went to work at one of my jobs. Today is Monday, so that means I went to Bel-Jean, a locally owned and operated copy shop downtown. I am a typesetter, which means I lay out various things - invitations, business cards, graduation announcements, menus, etc. - but I prefer the term "visual problem solver." It's a more accurate descriptor.

After work, I went home, changed clothes, loaded the rest of the Harwells into the car, and drove to my parents' home a couple of towns over. We left the kids there while Jana and I went to a wonderful engagement party for some wonderful people. I got to see my parents for a second, but that second never seems long enough.

And right now I'm sitting on my living room couch typing this and occasionally glancing up at the preseason football game on television.

Now you see why I hate the "what have you been up to?" question. So much of what I do now is completely ordinary and mundane. But it's not ordinary and mundane. Being a father and spending time with my kids is one of the most exciting things I've ever done. I literally have no idea what will come out of my daughter's mouth at any given moment, but there is at least an 85% chance that it will be absolutely hilarious or mind-blowing.

And while I hope that my typesetting days will one day give way to some work that I find a bit more meaningful, I have absolutely no idea what waits for me when I walk through those Bel-Jean doors. For example, the other day I was asked to add a man to his church's membership directory. This man was listed as "deceased." I added a dead man's contact info to a church directory. A few days later I was asked to remove him from the same directory. I can't even begin to understand this.

Furthermore, in between all of the highlights are all the random thoughts I have about God, music, art, culture, people, love, pride, hope, failure, hopelessness, inadequacy, frustration, and joy. I wonder sometimes why my plans haven't worked out, and I wonder all the more when I consider that in those defeats and shortfalls I have become a much clearer picture of the man I was intended to be. In my three-block walk from Bel-Jean to my car, I often flip-flop seven or eight times on my feelings about the importance of art in culture, art as a cultural influencer, the role of art in the church, and whether or not any of it ever adds up to anything more than chasing the wind.

I think about friends of mine who are trying to have children but can't. I think about friends who are trying to adopt children. I think about one particular friend with cancer and whether he and his wife will get to be parents. I also wonder if the Dawgs have a shot at Florida this year, why Superdrag didn't have more commercial success, and whether or not I would pay to see Weezer play the Blue Album & Pinkerton without Matt playing bass.

What have I been up to? Nothing. And also everything at all. And you?

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

How do I say goodbye to what we had?

2011-01-31T09:27:00.001-08:00

Today I sent the Mazda to live with a new family. Only Boyz 2 Men know how I feel:

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

When this is my desk, it's a good day to be at work.

2011-01-19T09:51:00.001-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Merry Christmas, Internet, from the Harwells:

2010-12-20T08:03:00.001-08:00

Somewhere in August, I had the idea that a Christmas card didn't have to just be a card, and looking around at the various recording things I'd accumulated, the idea for some sort of "Harwell family Christmas" recording was born. I thought, "Well, why not?"

More songs were started than were finished, but the three that made it are our favorites. In particular, 'Silent Night' was fun to do as a one-take, live-on-the-floor tune with a solo guitar, keeping with the song's history - it was written and performed as a duet with a single guitar after the organ at the newly built - and appropriately named - Church of St. Nicholas in Oberndorf, Austria broke down on Christmas Eve, 1818. Jana has never sang on any of my recordings before, though none of us are quite sure why.

The fourth track is one of my favorite sermons from our church (Classic City Community Church) from December 12, 2008. We hope you enjoy the tunes, and we wish you a most Merry Christmas!

Good tidings of great joy!

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Well done, Wyatt.

2010-12-09T09:15:00.001-08:00

“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant!" - Matthew 25:21

Our hearts are heavy today for Abby and the Mitchell family. We'll miss you, Wyatt.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Untitled

2010-12-08T08:30:00.003-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Untitled

2010-12-08T08:30:00.001-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Squidmas... Don't Be Late.

2010-11-22T20:31:00.001-08:00

Here's a little video I made to get you ready for "Squidmas" 2010 at the 40 Watt here in Athens on Tuesday, December 7th. Our friends Doctor Squid have put this together for the last three years, and this year, the Warm Fuzzies will be joining in the holiday cheer.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Untitled

2010-11-11T19:07:00.001-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Mercy.

2010-11-11T07:13:00.001-08:00

This is a video I helped produce for Mercy Health Center here in Athens for their annual fundraiser banquet.

I started volunteering at Mercy back in May after Medical Director Paul Buczynsky spoke one Sunday at my church. Paul also attends Classic City, and I knew a little about Mercy, but in hearing firsthand about a place in my own town that is caring for those who need help - regardless of income, race, religion, etc. - got my heart racing. Here is a place where love is an action verb, a volunteer-driven organism that puts into practice the words of Jesus. Not perfect, but so very, very wonderful.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

In the last week...

2010-11-08T19:18:00.001-08:00

... dear friends who had been trying to have a baby for a long time told us they're pregnant.

...we celebrated with some of our very closest friends as they welcomed their firstborn daughter into the world.

...I heard that a really great pastor and friend is losing his job due to budget cutbacks.

... Another friend booked a flight to be with her father in Houston as he seeks treatment for liver cancer.

...I filmed my daughter's first public dance performance.

When someone asks me, "How are things?" I never know how to answer. But as these days roll on, I'm finding more and more opportunity to put this verse into practice:

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." - Romans 12:15

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Video+recap

2010-10-24T19:30:00.001-07:00

This is a video I put together for my great friends John & Tara Dunn to show at their adoption fundraiser last Saturday. I think what they're doing is pretty great.

I also need to say thanks to the "Justice League" for backing me up on a handful of songs; it was a blast to play some old tunes with a full band. If I could break down those guys and assign each of them to the actual members of the Justice League, it might look like this:

1. Paul Reeves = Superman. The facilitator. The heart (and also the truth and justice). He's also the Keymaster.

2. Justin Reynolds = The Flash. You know, for the speed at which he wields the "hot licks" on the electric guitar.

3. Michael Whitworth = Green Lantern. For his overall coolness and creative juices on the bass guitar.

4. Ben Thompson = Aquaman. Just because I can kind of picture him wearing Aquaman's outfit.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Suffering.

2010-10-22T07:17:00.001-07:00

"For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."

2 Corinthians 1:5

I read this yesterday morning. Yesterday afternoon, I found out a good friend of mine had lost a younger sibling, the second this year.

And I wondered about sin and the brokenness that exists in the world. So often, I think that Jesus doesn't understand my problems. That because he was God, he was somehow not really able to experience the worst parts of being a not-God person. But if on the cross, he did not just step in as a replacement for sin but actually became the sin so that sin would be destroyed, I reckon he knows a lot more than I give him credit for. For in becoming sin, he actually took on the weight of every measure of suffering that was, is, and will be. Essentially, he felt an eternity's worth of pain, including yours and mine. And I don't mean he just got "punished" for it but that he actually felt it.

Paul says here that those sufferings will "flow into our lives," and I take that to mean that we should expect such things. A faith that banks upon a smooth life is one with a paper mache foundation. I don't know what to say to my friend Parks as he copes with the loss of his brother; there are no words that can bring him back. I'd just end up sounding like one of Job's friends anyway. How can I even begin to know what they're going through?

So instead of giving them some trite devotional, I'll just continue to hope and pray that just as the Carpenter family has had an extreme measure of suffering flow into their lives this year, they will also see his comfort flow into their lives, too.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Consider this your formal invitation

2010-10-20T13:25:00.001-07:00

This Saturday (October 23rd), I'll be dusting off some tunes off my two good records - Alive in the Fall and the.broken.headphones - in an attempt to do my part in helping my great friends John & Tara Dunn raise money to adopt a child from Ethiopia. You may know of John from one of my other slightly-less-good albums, specifically the track "The Ballad of Tae kwon John" from Flavor of the Year, Volume One.

And just so you know, he's still working to become a ninja in his spare time.

So here's the deal: it's completely free for you to come, though if you expect to eat anything, you'll need to RSVP to me or to Tara so that they can plan for the right number of folks. I reckon if you're not all that hungry, you can come anyway, but as best as we can, we're trying to get a head count. I hope that won't discourage you from coming out.

More specific details:
When: This Saturday, October 23, 2010
Where: The UGA Wesley Foundation chapel on Lumpkin St.
Time: 6pm
What to expect: Expect some music from yours truly. Expect to hear from John and Tara about their hearts for adoption. Expect to throw some money in the hat.

Seriously, I want you to come. Just let me know.

If you have any questions, send me an email, and I'll get you some answers.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Who are we following, really?

2010-10-11T05:37:00.001-07:00

1 Corinthians 1:10-17 NIV

¹⁰I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. ¹¹My brothers, some from Chloe's household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. ¹²What I mean is this: One of you says, "I follow Paul"; another, "I follow Apollos"; another, "I follow Cephas^[a]"; still another, "I follow Christ."

¹³Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized into^[b] the name of Paul? ¹⁴I am thankful that I did not baptize any of you except Crispus and Gaius, ¹⁵so no one can say that you were baptized into my name. ¹⁶(Yes, I also baptized the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I don't remember if I baptized anyone else.) ¹⁷For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel—not with words of human wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.

Seems we still do as the Corinthians did. I mean, everybody's got "their guy." I wonder if sometimes it's good to remember that neither John Piper nor Mark Driscoll, Tim Keller, Rob Bell, Francis Chan, Andy Stanley, Rick Warren or [fill in the blank with your Christian leader/author/pastor of choice] actually saves you from anything.

I'm not hating on those guys, by the way, just a reminder to keep your head on straight.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Being Somebody – Finding Our Worth

2010-10-05T07:52:00.001-07:00

Madonna and Self-Worth
by Russ Masterson

“I have an iron will. And all of my will has always been to conquer some horrible feeling of inadequacy. I’m always struggling with that fear. I push past one spell of it and discover myself as a special human being and then I get to another stage and I think I’m mediocre and uninteresting and I find a way to get myself out of that again and again. My drive in life in life is the horrible fear of being mediocre. That’s always been pushing me, pushing me. Even though I’ve become somebody I still have to prove that I am somebody. My struggle has never ended and it probably never will.” (Madonna, Vogue, 1990′s)

Being Somebody when you are somebody is easy.
But it’s also unstable because you have to maintain your somebody-ness.
What if you could be Somebody when you are a nobody. That’s freedom.

We love recognition. We bask in the glory. Some recognition is nice, floods of it warps us, and we shouldn’t gleam our self-worth from it. The justification for our existence shouldn’t lie in achievement or recognition, because one day we will fail, then our self-worth will plummet. Depression will arrive. The fight to never fail is impossible, only exhaustion awaits that pursuit. We are left only to find our worth outside of ourselves.

This is the gospel: though I’m broken, though I’m small and love recognition too much, God still loves me through Christ!

Our validity is given, not earned. The love is given.

If you don’t know your important before you achieve you will become a slave to your achievement or the pursuit of it.

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010 . No Comments
Share on Facebook Email This Subscribe to this feed Comments Policy

via russmasterson.com

This is something I've been trying to really come to know over the last year and a half or so. My favorite part of Russ' post is this line:

"Our validity is given, not earned. The love is given."

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Help Us Make One Less Orphan

2010-09-30T20:59:00.001-07:00

More details as we get them nailed down, but go ahead and circle Saturday, October 23 on your calendar with a bright yellow highlighter or something and plan to join me at the UGA Wesley Foundation to help my good friends John & Tara Dunn afford to adopt a child from Ethiopia.

And for the first time in about a billion years, I'll be doing a full band set with a heroic group of musos affectionately referred to as "the Justice League" backing me up.

And remember: Admission is free but adoption isn't, so bring some cash to help the world have one less orphan.

[We need a headcount for food, so RSVP to me and let me know who's coming.]

To recap:

What: J.Harwell & the Justice League benefitting John & Tara Dunn's adoption efforts

When: Saturday, October 23, 2010. 6 pm.

Where: UGA Wesley Foundation, 1196 S. Lumpkin St., Athens, GA 30605

Who: You and all your friends. RSVP to me so we can get a head count for food.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Squish.

2010-09-30T08:06:00.001-07:00

"God can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us."
"If you are not ripe yet, and if God had squeezed you anyway, the wine produced would have been remarkably bitter."

(excerpted from My Utmost For His Highest)

Some days I am not a very good grape.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Chasm.

2010-09-29T05:54:00.001-07:00

This morning I came across the blog of someone I know, but only really in passing. He spoke of the days back when he was a "fundamentalist" Christian and how now the only really important thing is to love and empathize with others.

Reading it made me sad. Mostly because "Christian" and "love and empathy" are far too often on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Wyatt Mitchell is a giant among men. And he's fighting cancer.

2010-09-21T06:23:00.001-07:00

Support for Wyatt & Abby

20 Sep

Dear Friends,

We pray these words find you well. This is not Wyatt or Abby writing to you today. On behalf of some of Wyatt’s friends from college, we have asked for the opportunity to contact you for your help in a vital role during this difficult battle against synovial-cell sarcoma.

First, thank you for your prayers, phone calls, text messages, letters of support, gifts and many other ways you have loved the Mitchells. They have been blown away by the support and love that friends, family and perfect strangers have shown them. Christ has been made tangible through you.

Besides the above, we have all been asking, “What else can we do to best support our dear friends?” Please continue to pray above all. Additionally, there is a new opportunity that has come up to support Abby and Wyatt. Through an organization called Helping Hands, Abby and Wyatt will be able to accept financial contributions tax free. This organization is an IRS approved 501-C(3) non-profit that acts as a receiver and distributer of charitable gifts to people in need. It was founded by Terry Parker, who started the National Christian Foundation, in order to facilitate Christian charity through the gifting of tax-exempt donations to those in need.

Through Helping Hands we have created the Wyatt Mitchell Medical Project. This allows you to give a gift, which will go directly toward Wyatt’s continued medical treatment costs, is tax-deductible to you and does not create a tax liability for Wyatt and Abby. Additionally, Abby and Wyatt can use this towards other treatment costs (i.e. travel and medical services not covered by insurance). What a blessing and amazing way to serve our friends!

Please visit Helping Hands website (Helping Hands) if you would like more information about the organization. If you would like and felt lead to support Wyatt and Abby in this way, you can give in the following ways:

1. On-line:

Visit www.hhmin.org

Select “Donate to a Helping Hands Approved Project”

Select “Medical”

Scroll to “Mitchell, Wyatt”

2. By check:

Make all checks payable to Helping Hands Ministries, Inc.

In the Memo section of your check, please write The Wyatt Mitchell Medical Project.

Please mail all checks to:
Helping Hands Ministries, Inc.
135 Main Street
PO Box 337
Tallulah Falls, GA 30573

Your donation information will be confidential. Helping Hands will handle all financial matters and receipt you directly. For other gifts; stock, etc, please contact Dawn Llanas (dawn@hhmin.org).

We anticipate that God might even bring more than we can ask or imagine for Wyatt’s treatment. If God in His mercy does that, then Helping Hands can hold these funds for future additional medical needs for him.

As we continue to pray for Wyatt’s healing, let us continue to remember that God has the power to do more than we can ask or imagine, so ask and act big. Thanks be to the Lord!

Ephesians 3:14-21

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Thank you, and may God heal Wyatt,

Kyle Belcher
Al Daniel
John and Mia Mattioli

Comments 5 Comments

Categories Uncategorized

Author supportforwyatt

via supportforwyatt.wordpress.com

You may not know Wyatt; that's cool. But a lot of us do, and I couldn't help but pass along this to any of you who may want to help out. - jason

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

One item off my bucket list.

2010-09-15T19:38:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, my friend Craig gave me a priceless gift: he flew me out to see one of the most influential bands in my life, Toad the Wet Sprocket. Craig really deserves his own post (which I hope to get to soon) for being an incredible friend to me for the last decade or so, but I'll do something out of the ordinary here and keep things brief.

I took this photo with my fancy phone; I was probably six feet from the stage. Now, if you were born in 1989, you probably have no idea who Toad the Wet Sprocket is, and that's kind of a shame. Completely understandable, but a shame, really. If you're into measuring success by unit sales, they had two platinum albums (Fear and Dulcinea) and a #1 hit on modern rock radio ("Fall Down" from Dulcinea). So there's that. But as I sat on the plane out (alternating between listening to Toad albums and the South Carolina announcer's feed from the UGA - South Carolina game), I was reminded why this band mattered so much to me, and it had nothing to do with how many albums they sold or how cool they were. Toad became a part of my autobiography because they actually wrote about things I cared about. Not surfacey stuff about girls or getting your heart broken (though relationships and heartache are in those songs) but about the deeper longings and bigger questions that we all have. The kinds of things that need more than 140 characters or a "Like" button.

Those records hold up, even twenty years later. When my friend David and I started a band in college, I basically made every attempt I could to write like Glen Phillips. I failed, of course, but those Toad the Wet Sprocket albums set a very high bar for me in terms of songwriting that I'm still trying to hit.

I don't know why Toad didn't last longer or have greater success. Maybe it was because they weren't from Seattle or they didn't sound like Korn. Who can say? But I can tell you that back when I was 17 and drove a blue Chevy Cavalier and made mix tapes to jam in my cassette player, you could always find some Toad the Wet Sprocket on both sides of the tape.

Seeing them do one of their annual reunion shows could never be like seeing them on top of the world in 1994, but it doesn't matter to me as long as those songs stay alive.

Craig, thanks so much, man.

-----------------------------------------------------

These are my favorite Toad songs - I would seriously encourage you to take a listen for yourself sometime or buy them here:

1. Windmills (from Dulcinea)

2. Whatever I Fear (Coil)

3. Dam Would Break (from Coil)

4. Crowing (Dulcinea)

5. Nightingale Song (In Light Syrup)

6. Rings (Coil)

7. Something's Always Wrong (Dulcinea)

8. Are We Afraid (In Light Syrup)

9. All I Want (Fear)

10. Fall Down (Dulcinea)

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

This is what 4 years old looks like so far

2010-08-31T15:43:00.001-07:00

Sent from my iPhone

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

A good start to the day/week...

2010-08-30T09:22:00.001-07:00

Sent from my iPhone

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

So I'm (kind of) a Christian hipster?

2010-08-27T15:11:00.001-07:00

I read this article about the intersection of Christianity and coolness and I'm looking forward to reading the book. I've always really liked Brett McCracken's writing (or at least the stuff I've read of his on Relevant over the years). Then I clicked on over to the book's website and took their "Are You A Christian Hipster?" quiz. You're looking at my result.

Not sure what I think about this, especially considering that the explanation is pretty accurate. I'm not sure what to think about that, either.

Levels.

2010-08-04T19:47:00.001-07:00

[[posterous-content:pid___0]]My lovely wife and our kiddos are out of town having adventures for a few days, so today I tried to take the opportunity to do some things I don't do very often (in addition to the work-stuff and errands I do pretty regularly).

I had breakfast with Tae kwon John at a really great local restaurant (mmmm.... Mama's Boy...)

I watched a baseball game on television.

And I spent a little time out at the practice space turning sounds into little 1s and 0s and watching the needles jump.

I didn't record anything of any note, really. I'm still getting the setup dialed in and learning to use the new multitracker I bought last month, so I just threw a drum loop into it and played some stuff from my cheesy Wurlitzter student organ to get levels and begin developing a good workflow. But doing these things helps to put things in balance for me somehow, and that's a good thing for them, too.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Levels.

2010-08-04T19:46:00.001-07:00

I had breakfast with Tae kwon John at a really great local restaurant (mmmm.... Mama's Boy...)

I watched a baseball game on television.

And I spent a little time out at the practice space turning sounds into little 1s and 0s and watching the needles jump.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

What?

2010-08-03T07:50:00.001-07:00

From My Utmost For His Highest:

"We are not taken into a conscious agreement with God’s purpose— we are taken into God’s purpose with no awareness of it at all. We have no idea what God’s goal may be; as we continue, His purpose becomes even more and more vague. God’s aim appears to have missed the mark, because we are too nearsighted to see the target at which He is aiming. At the beginning of the Christian life, we have our own ideas as to what God’s purpose is. We say, 'God means for me to go over there,' and, 'God has called me to do this special work.' We do what we think is right, and yet the compelling purpose of God remains upon us. The work we do is of no account when compared with the compelling purpose of God. It is simply the scaffolding surrounding His work and His plan."

At what point will I let go of trying to figure out what God is doing and just trust that he knows what he's doing? When will I be content to simply look around where I'm at and join him in whatever he's doing there? When will I learn to accept my limitations and weaknesses and embrace the "vagueness" of a plan I can never fully grasp?

I long for a relationship with God that has no seams. No boundaries. No fences. I don't feel "called" to do much of anything anymore - aside from loving God and my neighbors and stuff like that; you know, the stuff we're all called to do - but maybe that's a good thing.

Then again, who knows? It's all kind of vague, isn't it?

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Untitled

2010-08-02T09:43:00.001-07:00

For the past week or so, this was the view from my front porch (if you consider the bottom step of an RV trailer a porch). For the fourth year in a row, I've traveled to Farragut State Park in northern Idaho to hang out with high school students (all from the Seattle area) and play ridiculous songs. I also wild out on croquet and volleyball while 300 students trek to the lake to ride wakeboards and banana boats and air chairs and things of that nature. There's also an espresso machine and square dancing in a local barn.

I always find this event to be a difficult thing to explain to people back home, and this is actually something I enjoy a great bit. I like it when things are hard to explain; it forces me to use my imagination.

I really miss my family while I'm gone, but because I've been making this trek for four years, it's very much like I'm with family when I get there. And to be honest, it's also good to be away from normal life for a bit. Seems I'm constantly getting bogged down by stuff that's ultimately not that important. And by that I mean all the little things I do in a given day that have nothing to do with loving my family or other people or whatever. Things like always being on time. Or signing some insurance forms that came in the mail.

But I'm also always reminded that in those seemingly insignifcant comings and goings is precisely where I will live out my faith. How I handle stress at work is to me a very good (and in my case, damning) indicator of the state of my heart. Ouch.

So I am encouraged and challenged to remember once again that I am not capable of saving anyone, including myself. That obedience is something I must choose to do. And that I have much farther to go.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

normal

2010-07-31T11:01:00.001-07:00

This is from my great friend David Herndon's blog, and I think it's a worthwhile read. I'm biased of course; I think everything David writes is worth reading.

I watched the Nooma video, “Name,” tonight with some friends. As he always seems to do, Rob Bell, uttered one of the most profound statements I have ever heard in the shortest phrase possible. He makes me jealous in that way. Every time I try to say something profound it takes several paragraphs and the profoundness never seems to carry the weight I aim for. He also looks pretty cool wearing those glasses. I could never pull off that look. Anyway, this is what he said on the topic of comparison:

The question is not what is normal for most people. The question is: what is normal for you?

The idea is that we spend a great deal of energy and time worrying about what is “normal” and we determine our “normalness” by comparing our lifestyle, thoughts, ideas, actions to other people’s lifestyles, thoughts, ideas, and actions. Another way to say it: I determine what is right for me by determining what is right for others.

Over-simplified example: If everyone around me wears a red shirt, then maybe I should wear a red shirt.

There are several definitions of “normal,” but my favorite one is this: serving to establish a standard.

Normal is establishing the standard. Normal is achieving the goal. Why do we so often compare to others when determining what normal is? Because we have not set a standard for ourselves. Why do we fear being abnormal? Because it means we fall short of the standard. You may not realize it, but the search for normal is what your life is based on. Every decision you make, every action you take is in an effort to meet the standard. All of this leads to one very important question:

What is the standard?

All too often our standard is whatever everyone else is doing, thinking, saying. But Romans 8:28-29 says this: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,whohave been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, Christ Jesus.”

Normal is establishing the standard. The standard is the purpose. The purpose is to become like Christ.

Not to become like others, but to become like Christ.

What would your life look like if, instead of constantly trying to be like everyone else, you just tried to be like Christ?

What would your conversations sound like? What would your budget look like? How would your perspective change? How would your life change? What would our world look like if we all unanimoulsy strived to be like Christ?

Jesus is the most normal person who ever lived, yet to most of us his life looks like the most abnormal way of life we’ve ever seen.

Maybe we need a new definition of normal. Maybe we need a new standard of living.

via davidherndon.wordpress.com

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

"Bastille-strong?"

2010-07-15T06:33:00.001-07:00

For the last couple of years, my great friend (and Renaissance man extraordinaire) Rob Simpson has organized a Bastille Day cross-crit bike race. That's "crit" as in "criterium," you know (are you impressed by my armchair bike knowledge?). Essentially, this means you ride on the road and off the road and by some gravelly railroad tracks and other parts where you can't ride at all, and you have to dismount and carry your bike over the obstacle. Rob races a lot of cycle-cross during the year, so he's pretty awesome at it. He also knows how to put together a ridiculous (and ridiculously fun) event. And by that I mean costumes are encouraged.

This is a photo of the trophy I won this year. And if you're not familiar with the acronym, "DFL" refers to being dead last (complete with expletive!), a position I held mightily this year despite doing my best to kick it "Bastille-strong". I reckon DFL is better than a DNF, though.

Coincidentally, this last weekend I cleaned out my garage and threw away all my old tee-ball trophies. You know, the kind that your mama paid for at the beginning of the rec ball season. I used to display them proudly on a shelf in my room, and it was actually a traumatic shock to the me the day I realized those trophies didn't mean anything other than the fact that I had played tee-ball in 1986. It was like realizing someone had been letting you win all those years and that you weren't as good as you thought.

Of course, on a bike I'm well aware of my limitations. For example, last year's Bastille Day cross-crit course was a little easier, but I didn't finish. I quit with one lap to go. By that point, I'd thrown myself off my bike a few times, I was hurting a little and tired, and I just gave up. I kind of blame it on the fact Rob made me eat a baguette before I could begin the race, but that's probably not really it. But this year, on a more difficult course, I managed to stay on my bike, and I finished. Dead last, but nonetheless.

So while I just threw out a whole box of old trophies that were supposed to make me feel like a winner, it's kind of funny that I'm actually a little proud of a homemade one I got for being the loser.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Loyalty?

2010-07-09T07:43:00.001-07:00

Loyalty is an interesting thing in the context of professional sports. Of course, I'm writing this the day after LeBron James announced that he's leaving the state of Ohio for the first time in his basketball career to play in Miami with some other friends - and great basketball players - next season.

People are angry. There are jerseys burning in the streets. The owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers wrote a scorching letter (in Comic Cans font!?) accusing his former moneymaker of quitting on his team in the playoffs. He also - like many others - are making a point of crushing the guy for being disloyal.

And that's where things get confusing to me. The premise seems to be that LeBron is turning his back on his city, his state, his people. He's just stabbed them all viciously in the back and laughed as he twisted the knife before jumping the charter jet to Florida. But what is loyalty in professional sports? Doesn't it work both ways?

In any sport, franchises routinely sign players for as many years as possible, and they also routinely trade or cut these players before their contracts expire. The team owners expect these players to honor their contracts while they themselves do the opposite. Where's the loyalty in that?

So players get as much money as they can get in guaranteed money and make decisions based on what they want. If a team is not going to be "loyal" to them, why should they return the favor? They've only got a window of a few years to earn as much as they can, so why wouldn't they get what they can get? Pro sports is a business, and business is about making money. The teams want to make money; the players want to make money. So wherever a player can make more money, they'll do it. Now, I understand that in this particular scenario it's likely that all LeBron (and Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh) will make less than they could so that they can play together, but if you factor in the possible endorsement deals and global fame they'll receive from winning championships, they probably stand to do a little better outside of basketball.

Anyway, I just think it's ridiculous that we kill these athletes for being "disloyal," as if they need to clear their career decisions with us, the fans. Be upset; that's part of being a fan. But a businessman made a business decision, and that's that. It's not loyal or disloyal. And by the way, ask Kevin Garnett what "loyalty" gets you in sports. One of the best players in the game, he stayed loyal to the team that drafted him, giving his best years to the Minnesota Timberwolves on teams that never made it past the first round of the playoffs. By the time that he realized the team ownership was too cheap to ever bring in a good enough supporting cast, he was past his prime. At that point, he jumped ship to the Boston Celtics and won a championship (and played in two other NBA finals). Had he been "disloyal" earlier, who knows how many others he may have won?

I'm not defending these players, especially the way in which LeBron (and Wade and Bosh) carried themselves through this free agency period. The documentary cameras, the drama, the nationally televised "decision" show were pretty crass if you ask me. All these guys make a lot more money that I'll ever see, so Cleveland vs. any other city is kind of moot point at some level. I'm also not defending the ownership of any of these teams. If sports is supposed to be about winning, then I guess some others have to lose. Dan Gilbert is doubly angry because his team now lost their best chance to win on the court and literally millions upon millions of dollars in revenue. But firing off an angry letter - especially one in Comic Sans - is pretty ridiculous.

I've already gone too long here, but there's also an interesting parallel here with the music business. For years, major labels have operated just like these owners, signing artists to contracts for as many years/albums possible for no other reason than to keep the labels' options open. There were no guarantees an artist would every get to release the number of albums stated in his/her contract, or if an album would be released period. The label could agree to whatever they wanted without having to actually deliver.

So the artists countered by looking to get as much money up front as possible (in the form of an advance) which was the only money they were guaranteed to ever receive. And at some point, when an artist "made it" to the point where they were commanding top dollar at concert venues and selling millions of albums, many of them would jump ship to other labels who were offering them something more. The artists were essentially allowing themselves to get screwed up front in the hopes that they could reach a level of superstardom that would allow them to either renegotiate or jump ship to another label.

Music, like pro sports, is ultimately a business. So labels sign artists to contracts that best suit the labels, and artist's make decisions based on what's best for their careers. So maybe "loyalty" is really about honoring your contract and less about some sort of moral responsibility.

And all of these basketball players did that, whether I personally like them or not.

Hey, I'm as guilty as anyone of looking at sports as an analogy for life, but by that, I'm referring to the actual competition that happens on the court (or field, or whatever) and not rest of it. The business part of it - that's not life. If you want to despise these guys because they make lots of money for doing something very inconsequential in the broad scope of things (they do get paid millions to put a ball in a hoop), you're free to do that. So yeah, there are good reasons for not liking professional athletes. But "loyalty" in this context is not one of them.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

If you don't already have them...

2010-06-30T19:49:00.001-07:00

Here's how you can download my best two albums for free:

1. Go to http://jasonharwell.bandcamp.com

2. Choose an album.

3. Click "download" and choose your preferred file type (mp3, FLAC, etc.)

4. Drag downloaded file folder into your iTunes library (or whatever you use to keep a music library)

5. Enjoy!

That's all there is to it. Now, if you've got your heart set on buying some music, you can always get these recordings online at any digital service. You're also incredibly awesome. That will help me pay off some new studio equipment that is currently helping the Warm Fuzzies make new recordings (as well as finishing some of my own newer recordings).

But since I'm giving you this for free, you're supposed to be guilt-free.

Thanks for listening!

jason

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Jana.

2010-06-22T10:33:00.001-07:00

As I alluded to a couple of days ago, today is my eighth wedding anniversary with my lovely wife, Jana, and four of them have been the happiest years of my life (that's a joke, people. My father-in-law used to use that one a good bit, and it never gets old).

Much like a lot of things I've noticed as I've gotten older, the last eight years seem to be simultaneously a moment and an eternity. Weird how that happens. In that time we've had our share of adventures, and I am continually grateful to be with her as we find our share of new ones.

I am often reminded of something profound that Jana and I read during our pre-marital counseling from the book, A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Van Auken. I passed the book along a few years ago, so I don't have an exact quote, but the gist of the passage was this - that it's actually quite easy to destroy a marriage, and negligence is the most dangerous assassin. Van Auken spoke of his own marriage, about how he and his wife dedicated themselves to each other's interests in order that they may avoid what he called the "creeping separateness." It boiled down to a simple truth, that each day a married couple will either choose to take a small step toward one another or a small step away. The application is that if we're not careful, we can easily erode our own marriages by slowly and surely drifting apart from one another.

That particular part of the book is ingrained in my consciousness. With the increasing amounts of things out there to entertain us, it is very easy to drift apart. I'm not going to criticize anyone for playing video games, but there is a hard reality for someone who spends hours alone playing games online by himself. The Van Aukens of A Severe Mercy figured that surrendering all the things you love to do (i.e., playing video games) wasn't really all that helpful either, so instead, they chose to do such things together for the sake of their marriage.

Jana has always done this. She knows things about music and recording and Weezer and comic books that she probably wouldn't have except that she's married to a guy who knows a lot about those things (a great example would be the very nice guitar I mentioned in the last post... she had taken the time to learn that about me). And I know about soccer and Young Life and Wendell Berry books and David Wilcox records because those are things she is interested in. Jana taught me how to throw a frisbee and play Ultimate; I taught her about the X-Men. And our marriage is much stronger, deeper, and better for having done so. Like with anything, I find that if I can get inside of something new and engage it in my life, I will find a new appreciation for it. And with each passing day, month, and year, I continue to find newness and a new appreciation for her as we continue to, as best as we know how, to take those small steps towards each other.

I've certainly done some boneheaded things in the last eight years, some of which cost us a little money and time and some others that cost us a lot more money and time. But despite my crazy ideas that haven't worked as well as I thought, Jana has remained my biggest fan, encouragement, and example of God's feelings about me through her love with no strings attached, her patience, and at times, her compassionate forgiveness. I am not worthy of such a love, nor is it something I could have earned. It is a gift, and God forgive me for the times I have taken that for granted.

Almost eleven years ago, Jana and I fell in love working as summer camp counselors on St. Simons Island. It was the day before the end of the summer, and neither one of us really wanting it to be so, we ended up staying up all night, dipping our feet in the Epworth fountain, and fighting mosquitoes as big as your head under a full moon. Three years later we returned to that fountain, and I asked her if she might like to do such things with me for the rest of her life. That's where the song, A Lovely Shade of You, came from. I don't write too many traditional relationship love songs, but certain occasions call for such a thing.

Okay, enough sap for today. I've got things to do and kids to wrangle and clothes to wash. But I wanted to take a few moments to celebrate my wife; heck, maybe if we all did that a bit more our divorce rate wouldn't be so high.

Lovely Shade Of You by Jason Harwell
Download now or listen on posterous

lovelyshade.mp3 (4673 KB)

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Dad.

2010-06-20T07:27:00.001-07:00

June holds for me two significant events - Father's Day and my wedding anniversary. This year, the two dates are only a couple of days apart.

Eight years ago, I married my lovely wife Jana. On the day before our wedding, she gave me a gift: a Gibson "Buddy Holly" reissue J-45 acoustic guitar, one of only 250 in existence. I gave her a Miles Davis album. That was kind of awkward.

Her gift to me is my single most prized possession (when it comes to "things" that I have), and having it has forever removed the desire in my being to have any other acoustic guitar. They say that things only satisfy you for so long before you want something new and shiny, and I would agree with that, except in the case of that guitar. And a lot of that has to do with the fact that it is a symbol of something bigger than wood and string or even music itself.

My father has the same guitar. An old one, from the sixties, that he got when he was a younger man. Growing up, some of my most important memories involve my father playing that guitar in our home. As I've gotten older myself, I don't really know if he played it all that much, but the times he did must have stuck to me like flypaper because in my memory, he played all the time. I always loved it when he would play; when he and my mother would practice some special song for a church service. I loved that my house had music in it [For a long time, I thought my dad wrote "Jack & Diane" and "Star of Bethlehem;" imagine my disappointment.]. And I always loved that old guitar. It was there for me as a teenager when I learned to play, and I built up a few callouses from the hours I spent banging out chords. And I do mean "banging."

I think of my father when I play my own guitar, something I do nearly every day. As the current of my life seems to take me further and further away from the performance stage, my own J-45 doesn't find many occasions to leave the house. Fortunately, my wife has given birth to a small audience of eager and enthusiastic music fans, one of whom is only big enough to enjoy banging on the side of it as I play for him in the floor. And I do mean "banging."

And so it goes that on a (mostly) daily basis, I hope to somehow be a bridge of what was in my own life to what is and will be in the lives of my own children. I hope to carry on the goodness I saw (and continue to see) in my father and to be a kind of father that imparts something lasting and good in my kids. I don't know if my father really knows the impact he has had on my life or if he imagines himself to be a "successful" man. I guess I feel the same way in my own life.

But when there's a tiny little girl singing silly songs and a small baby boy using my guitar as a percussion instrument, I begin to think less of my own life and more of the hope in theirs.

My father taught me that.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Bring us some drudgery!

2010-06-15T07:52:00.003-07:00

Two great posts on the goodness of doing the boring, repetitious, and tedious work we have before us:

Oswald Chambers' My Utmost For His Highest (June 15 entry):

In the matter of drudgery. Peter said in this passage that we have become “partakers of the divine nature” and that we should now be “giving all diligence,” concentrating on forming godly habits (2 Peter 1:4-5 ). We are to “add” to our lives all that character means. No one is born either naturally or supernaturally with character; it must be developed. Nor are we born with habits— we have to form godly habits on the basis of the new life God has placed within us. We are not meant to be seen as God’s perfect, bright-shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace. Drudgery is the test of genuine character. The greatest hindrance in our spiritual life is that we will only look for big things to do. Yet, “Jesus . . . took a towel and . . . began to wash the disciples’ feet . . .” ( John 13:3-5 ).

We all have those times when there are no flashes of light and no apparent thrill to life, where we experience nothing but the daily routine with its common everyday tasks. The routine of life is actually God’s way of saving us between our times of great inspiration which come from Him. Don’t always expect God to give you His thrilling moments, but learn to live in those common times of the drudgery of life by the power of God.

It is difficult for us to do the “adding” that Peter mentioned here. We say we do not expect God to take us to heaven on flowery beds of ease, and yet we act as if we do! I must realize that my obedience even in the smallest detail of life has all of the omnipotent power of the grace of God behind it. If I will do my duty, not for duty’s sake but because I believe God is engineering my circumstances, then at the very point of my obedience all of the magnificent grace of God is mine through the glorious atonement by the Cross of Christ.

via utmost.org

From The Art of Manliness blog:

Editor’s note: In conjunction with the two-part series we’re doing on vocation and calling, we will be publishing excerpts from Self-Culture Through the Vocation by Edward Howard Griggs (1914).

Dead Work

There is no honest vocation that cannot be made to some extent a fine art. That is, in every honest vocation, each day, growth is possible, if the work is loyally done; and that, we have seen, is the meaning of art. Indeed, the one supreme fine art is the art of living, and the particular vocation gets its meaning as a phase of that highest art.

In most vocations, it is true, there is so much dull routine work that we can discover little growth in the action of the single day. To go to the shop and sell a spool of thread and a paper of pins, to make the physician’s daily round, prescribing for those who are ill and the larger number who think they are, to work over the lawyer’s brief for some petty quarrel, to write sermons for congregations that will not listen and that demand the sermon shorter every week—it all seems such a blind mill-wheel grind that one sees little progress in the day……

It is, nevertheless, just such work, done cheerfully and loyally, to a high purpose, through the succession of days, that builds into the human spirit the noblest elements of culture. What then do we mean by “culture”— some esoteric knowledge or remote adornment of life? Surely not. Its foundation elements are: loyalty to the task in hand, the trained will that does not yield to obstacles, cheerful courage in meeting the exigencies that come, serenity maintained amid the petty distractions of life, holding the vision of the ideal across the sand wastes and through the valley of the shadows: these are the basic elements of culture, and they are built into the spirit of a man or a woman by the loyal doing of dead work through the succession of days….

Then, too, there is an almost universal optical illusion with reference to work: each of us is fully conscious of the dead work in his own calling, because he must fulfill it; with the tasks of others, he sees only the finished product. Thus each is inclined to exaggerate the dead work in his own vocation and to envy the apparently easier and happier tasks of others. You sit down in an audience room, and some master at the piano sweeps you out on to the bosom of the sea of emotion, playing with you at his will. The evening of melody is over; there is the moment of awed silence and then the storm of applause; you go home exclaiming, “What genius!” O yes, it is genius: someone has defined genius as the capacity for hard work. Genius is more than that — much more; but no exaggerated talent would take a man far, without the capacity for hard work; and what you forget, as you listen to the finished art of the master genius, is the days and nights of consecrated toil, foregoing, not only dissipation, but even innocent pleasures others take as their natural right, that the artist might master and keep the mastery of the technique of his art.

The thing that seems to be done most easily, costs most in the doing and has been paid for, invariably, out of the life. It is when men work with most exhausting intensity, on the basis of a life-time of training, that they work with most apparent ease. This world is no lottery, where you take a chance ticket and run your risk of winning or losing a prize, but serious business, where nothing worthwhile comes any other way than through dead, hard work carried through the days and years. One never truly possesses anything one has not earned by hard effort. To possess money, you must have earned money, or you do not know its worth, nor how to spend it aright. To possess knowledge, you must have earned knowledge; and the brilliant student who slides through college on his wits, coaching up just before examination and winning fairly good grades, loses in the slower race of life beside even the ungifted plodder, who has taken faithfully every hard step of the road.

It is said of Euclid, formulator of the earliest of the sciences, geometry, that on one occasion he was called in to teach a certain king of Egypt his new science. He began as we begin, with definition, axiom and proposition — we have not improved appreciably upon his text-book; and the king grew restless and indignant: “Must a Pharaoh learn like a common slave?” Euclid, with that pride in knowing one thing well, that everyone ought to have who knows one science thoroughly to the end, responded: “There is no royal road to geometry!” We can universalize the statement: there is no royal road to anything on earth — perhaps in heaven either — worth having, except the one broad, open highway, with no toll-gates upon it, of dead, hard, consistent work through the days and years. Spinoza said — it is the last word in his Ethic: “All noble things are as difficult as they are rare; ” and we may add, they are rare because they are difficult.

Posted via web from JasonHarwell.com

Bring us some drudgery!

2010-06-15T07:52:00.001-07:00

Two great posts on the goodness of doing the boring, repetitious, and tedious work we have before us:

Oswald Chambers' My Utmost For His Highest (June 15 entry):

In the matter of drudgery. Peter said in this passage that we have become “partakers of the divine nature” and that we should now be “giving all diligence,” concentrating on forming godly habits (2 Peter 1:4-5 ). We are to “add” to our lives all that character means. No one is born either naturally or supernaturally with character; it must be developed. Nor are we born with habits— we have to form godly habits on the basis of the new life God has placed within us. We are not meant to be seen as God’s perfect, bright-shining examples, but to be seen as the everyday essence of ordinary life exhibiting the miracle of His grace. Drudgery is the test of genuine character. The greatest hindrance in our spiritual life is that we will only look for big things to do. Yet, “Jesus . . . took a towel and . . . began to wash the disciples’ feet . . .” ( John 13:3-5 ).

We all have those times when there are no flashes of light and no apparent thrill to life, where we experience nothing but the daily routine with its common everyday tasks. The routine of life is actually God’s way of saving us between our times of great inspiration which come from Him. Don’t always expect God to give you His thrilling moments, but learn to live in those common times of the drudgery of life by the power of God.

It is difficult for us to do the “adding” that Peter mentioned here. We say we do not expect God to take us to heaven on flowery beds of ease, and yet we act as if we do! I must realize that my obedience even in the smallest detail of life has all of the omnipotent power of the grace of God behind it. If I will do my duty, not for duty’s sake but because I believe God is engineering my circumstances, then at the very point of my obedience all of the magnificent grace of God is mine through the glorious atonement by the Cross of Christ.

via utmost.org

From The Art of Manliness blog:

Editor’s note: In conjunction with the two-part series we’re doing on vocation and calling, we will be publishing excerpts from Self-Culture Through the Vocation by Edward Howard Griggs (1914).

Dead Work

There is no honest vocation that cannot be made to some extent a fine art. That is, in every honest vocation, each day, growth is possible, if the work is loyally done; and that, we have seen, is the meaning of art. Indeed, the one supreme fine art is the art of living, and the particular vocation gets its meaning as a phase of that highest art.

In most vocations, it is true, there is so much dull routine work that we can discover little growth in the action of the single day. To go to the shop and sell a spool of thread and a paper of pins, to make the physician’s daily round, prescribing for those who are ill and the larger number who think they are, to work over the lawyer’s brief for some petty quarrel, to write sermons for congregations that will not listen and that demand the sermon shorter every week—it all seems such a blind mill-wheel grind that one sees little progress in the day……

It is, nevertheless, just such work, done cheerfully and loyally, to a high purpose, through the succession of days, that builds into the human spirit the noblest elements of culture. What then do we mean by “culture”— some esoteric knowledge or remote adornment of life? Surely not. Its foundation elements are: loyalty to the task in hand, the trained will that does not yield to obstacles, cheerful courage in meeting the exigencies that come, serenity maintained amid the petty distractions of life, holding the vision of the ideal across the sand wastes and through the valley of the shadows: these are the basic elements of culture, and they are built into the spirit of a man or a woman by the loyal doing of dead work through the succession of days….

Then, too, there is an almost universal optical illusion with reference to work: each of us is fully conscious of the dead work in his own calling, because he must fulfill it; with the tasks of others, he sees only the finished product. Thus each is inclined to exaggerate the dead work in his own vocation and to envy the apparently easier and happier tasks of others. You sit down in an audience room, and some master at the piano sweeps you out on to the bosom of the sea of emotion, playing with you at his will. The evening of melody is over; there is the moment of awed silence and then the storm of applause; you go home exclaiming, “What genius!” O yes, it is genius: someone has defined genius as the capacity for hard work. Genius is more than that — much more; but no exaggerated talent would take a man far, without the capacity for hard work; and what you forget, as you listen to the finished art of the master genius, is the days and nights of consecrated toil, foregoing, not only dissipation, but even innocent pleasures others take as their natural right, that the artist might master and keep the mastery of the technique of his art.

The thing that seems to be done most easily, costs most in the doing and has been paid for, invariably, out of the life. It is when men work with most exhausting intensity, on the basis of a life-time of training, that they work with most apparent ease. This world is no lottery, where you take a chance ticket and run your risk of winning or losing a prize, but serious business, where nothing worthwhile comes any other way than through dead, hard work carried through the days and years. One never truly possesses anything one has not earned by hard effort. To possess money, you must have earned money, or you do not know its worth, nor how to spend it aright. To possess knowledge, you must have earned knowledge; and the brilliant student who slides through college on his wits, coaching up just before examination and winning fairly good grades, loses in the slower race of life beside even the ungifted plodder, who has taken faithfully every hard step of the road.

It is said of Euclid, formulator of the earliest of the sciences, geometry, that on one occasion he was called in to teach a certain king of Egypt his new science. He began as we begin, with definition, axiom and proposition — we have not improved appreciably upon his text-book; and the king grew restless and indignant: “Must a Pharaoh learn like a common slave?” Euclid, with that pride in knowing one thing well, that everyone ought to have who knows one science thoroughly to the end, responded: “There is no royal road to geometry!” We can universalize the statement: there is no royal road to anything on earth — perhaps in heaven either — worth having, except the one broad, open highway, with no toll-gates upon it, of dead, hard, consistent work through the days and years. Spinoza said — it is the last word in his Ethic: “All noble things are as difficult as they are rare; ” and we may add, they are rare because they are difficult.

Posted via web from JasonHarwell.com

Kid Ridiculous.

2010-06-09T19:04:00.001-07:00

I laughed out loud when Jana showed me this picture of our daughter pretending to be one of her dolls.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Weakness!

2010-06-08T07:42:00.001-07:00

It's been about a year since I went through counseling, which means it's been about a year since I realized just how weak I really am.

Beginning in my teenage years and continuing on through my twenties, I had become aware (and all too familiar) with some of my depressive tendencies. I couldn't really explain it; some days were just hard from the beginning, and little things (thoughts, experiences, conversations) could all be triggers that would send me off in a downward direction. Within moments, I could lose all hope as feelings of despair would just snowball out of control. I felt like I was drowning in my own skin, and I never saw it coming.

Like I said, I'd known this about myself for years. I tried to modify my behavior, tried to "buck up" and will myself out of the hole. I'd remind myself that all hope wasn't lost, that God cared about me, that I was fortunate. This only brought guilt and shame as I felt terrible for not seeing the goodness all around me. I was wasting my life. I was letting everyone down, including God; including myself. Try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to whip myself into shape, but I did learn to excel at whipping myself.

At some point last year, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I'm 30 years old. If this hasn't gone away - or even gotten better - all by itself in 30 years, it's probably not going to. I need some help.

I've been happy to talk about this with folks face to face, but I haven't really mentioned it publicly. It's kind of hard to do that because I'm telling everyone (for eternity, in the case of the internet) of my weaknesses, of my inabilities to pull myself up by my own bootstraps. To have to come off my high horse and admit that I cannot do much on my own. To admit that I had been guilty of carrying some huge misconceptions about a God I claimed to know personally. To admit that in fact, I'd put myself on the kingly throne. That I needed others to tell me who I was, to validate my existence, and to give my life meaning. That I found my identity in how well I performed at the things I did.

I could go on, but you get the point.

And so it was that, inwardly humiliated and ashamed, I contacted some friends for some recommendations for Christian counselors. A couple of weeks later I found myself sitting in "the chair" in a comfy office here in Athens, somewhat shocked in disbelief that I was, in fact, "in counseling." So much for my rugged individualism. All the "vision" I thought I'd possessed; all the great philosophical ideas; all the grand notions of "the world as it should be according to Jason," done. The end had come.

And then began anew as I dug more deeply into the scriptures than I ever had before. I was hungry for the word of God; I needed it. I read (for what felt like the first time) what God really thought of me. Not what I thought he thought of me, but what he actually said. I realized that my performance was not what he wanted. He's got infinite resources, so my work was no so important that he was depending on it. My heart... now that's what he wanted. And I wanted him to have that, to really have it. I began to reorganize my priorities, to try and find balance in my life. To learn to say "no" sometimes. To embrace the real freedom that Jesus died for instead of just suiting up in a different kind of chain.

I am still doing this a year later. At times it has been incredibly painful to "relearn" how to live my life, and it's something I'm still wrestling with. I'm still living with the consequences of the decisions I've made in the past (they don't go away, by the way). I'm still making mistakes with new consequences. There are no shortcuts; there is no easy. There is, however, forward.

On the day I finally accepted that I was not capable of saving myself, my whole life changed direction. I miss Rebuilt Records sometimes. I miss putting out records. It's hard to watch many of my friends doing greater and greater things with their art while I'm not. Now I have to fight feeling "washed up" and "useless" when I talk to other artists. What used to make me seem interesting to others ("Oh, you run a record label? Wow!" or "You hang out with all these cool artists? That's so awesome!") evaporated in a millisecond (and rightfully so). And while the human part of me still continues to wrestle with my need to receive someone's seal of approval, through it all, I'm more and more assured that the road ahead of me is a good one to walk.

For many years I was angry at God for the way I was made. I'll never know why I am wired this way, and I also know there will never be a time in which I "conquer" the depression that seems to be always around the corner. I'll just have to stay alert, to continue to push forward towards God's truth in scripture, and to always be willing to admit (as I did a year ago) that I am not capable of saving myself.

So now you know. And if you happen to look at my life and see goodness there, you'll know I had nothing to do with it. Thanks for reading this ridiculously long post.

^"8Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. ⁹But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. ¹⁰That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."- 2 Corinthians 12:8-10

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Things You May Like If You Like The Kinds of Things I Like

2010-06-01T08:27:00.001-07:00

If you're like me, you'll like these things:

Singing With The Corner Flag (your in-depth World Cup soccer blog curated by none other than Erik C. Kriebel himself).

"Calling Vs. Vocation." The continuing series from The Art of Manliness.

Vocation: Action Vs. Dreams

Vocation: The Necessity of Dead Work

Finding Your Calling, Part I: What Is A Vocation?

Finding Your Calling, Part II: The Myths and Realities of Vocation

(Note: I read this blog regularly, but I tend to subscribe to the "grain of salt" method. I don't always agree with everything on here, but I really like a lot of it. This series is good and challenging to think through.)

Good, personally challenging blogs about Jesus (and other things):

Pages

Lies I Overheard in Church

Music:

Micah's new EP, Gathered 'Round The Greasefire.

Jon's Up From The Ground project.

SmallHouse Creative

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Some quick items of note

2010-05-25T07:47:00.001-07:00

May always finds a way to be full of stuff to do. Athens is always buzzing during the first half of the month with thousands of people graduating, followed by hundreds of high school students graduating in the second half, so maybe that's part of it. I always intend to take things a bit easier in May, but that never seems to work out according to plan. Nevertheless, here's a quick roundup of the comings and goings around here.

1. 500 Songs for Kids at Smith's Olde Bar with the Fuzzies.

On May 7th, I had the distinct pleasure of being part of the fun at this year's 500 Songs for Kids fundraiser with the Warm Fuzzies. We had the opportunity to put our own spin on Buddy Holly's classic, "Peggy Sue," and we seized that opportunity. And by that, I mean we all bought gigantic "Buddy Holly-esque" glasses and put on ties. If you're not familiar with what Josh Rifkind is doing with 500 Songs, I'd encourage you to take a moment and check it out. What's not to like about musicians going into children's hospitals and playing music? Medicine is really only one kind of medicine, you know.

This year marked my third time participating, and it was by far the most fun song we've gotten yet. I also think Laura should forego all keyboard stands in the future and just sit on a park bench or something like in this photo. She's so rock n' roll she doesn't even need support.

2. Maybe 7 Songs For Kids at Molly's School

A few days after the Fuzzies destroyed Buddy Holly's legacy, I went and rocked out at First Presbyterian Weekday School here in Athens with my daughter Molly's class at their end-of-the-year party. As you can see, everyone is enjoying my musical stylings, except perhaps for that one little girl looking at the camera. She's not feeling it, I'm afraid. We nearly tore the roof off the joint with our scorchin' versions of "Farmer in the Dale" and "I'm A Little Teapot," and while no mosh pit broke out, one child did have to go to the bathroom.

3. Micah's new EP.

My good friend (and former Rebuilt artist) Micah Dalton is getting ready to release his new EP (recorded by my good friend and former Rebuilt artist Paul Reeves) called Gathered 'Round The Greasefire pretty soon, and I've really enjoyed listening to it. Micah just gets better and better. He was kind enough to drop by for a few minutes to bring me a copy and to listen patiently as Molly talked his ear off. She's good at that.

Check it out at www.micahdalton.com.

So there's your quick photo roundup.

In some sad news, my great friend Parks lost a niece and a sister within a span of days, and I was glad to be able to drive up to Chattanooga to Marie's visitation with some old friends. There is no easy, friends, only harder and harder. And it's supposed to be that way because it gets harder and harder because you're loving deeper and deeper. My heart hurts for the Carpenter family, and we'll continue to pray that they will find rest and peace (and comfort) in the days ahead.

That's it for now.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Recent Design Work: Nutria Album Release Show

2010-05-17T19:59:00.001-07:00

Here we have a show poster I designed for my good friend Adam Klein (GO LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC RIGHT NOW!). In addition to being a world traveler (he's been everywhere) and one heck of a storytelling songwriter, Adam also runs an indie here in Athens called Cowboy Angel Music. Good stuff.

The label is releasing Nutria's new record on June 3rd at the 40 Watt, and Adam's playing, too, so if you find yourself near Athens and looking for something awesome to do, consider your search over.

Adam gave me the freedom to just run with whatever I wanted, and after chasing a few rabbits, I came up with this. The label's aesthetic is vintage and well-worn, but it's stlll fun (especially Nutria's stuff), so the old rollercoaster seemed to fit the bill.

Makes me kind of want funnel cake.

Kind of.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

"Petite" Benatar?

2010-05-07T09:40:00.001-07:00

Her teenage years are going to be... awesome.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Some recent design work.

2010-04-29T18:59:00.001-07:00

Here are a couple of album designs I've worked on recently (and had a blast doing, I might add). The first one is for Atlanta songwriter Jeff Delbridge's upcoming digital release, Endless Ocean, which has an absolute ton of REAL symphonic strings all over the place. If you like the Amelie soundtrack (or Sufjan Stevens or Elliot Smith), then you'll do well to give this a listen on your favorite digital retailer when it's up. Jeff had Hassel Weems shoot some photos at the Chattanooga Aquarium and wanted to use those as a basis for the design, so that's what I did. Good stuff. http://www.jeffdelbridge.com

The second design is for our good friend from Melbourne, Australia, Levi McGrath, and his new album, Children of War. If you were up on the old Rebuilt Records podcast (still available on iTunes, I think), you would recognize Levi from the podcast I did with the wonderful Mark & Niki Tulk from Small House Records (now Small House Creative here in America... and right down the street from me, to be exact), the label which releases Levi's records. Levi got to come back to the US to record vocals last Fall at RoomFiftyThree (Mark's new studio here in Athens), and I was blown away by some of the photos he took on a recent trip to Uganda (on which the album's music and design are based). Levi has some pretty heartbreaking stories about children soldiers, and his heart for them is pretty inspiring. I encourage you to check out Levi's music online at http://www.levimcgrath.com and read more about his adventures in Africa and elsewhere. He's also quite handsome. There, I said it.

Thanks for letting me be a part of your art, fellas.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

This blog has moved

2010-04-28T08:24:00.003-07:00

This blog is now located at http://jasonharwell.blogspot.com/.
You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here.

For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to
http://jasonharwell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default.

This blog has moved

2010-04-28T08:24:00.001-07:00

This blog is now located at __FTP_MIGRATION_NEW_URL__.
You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here.

For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to
__FTP_MIGRATION_FEED_URL__.

Parenthood.

2010-04-20T10:28:00.001-07:00

In large part, my last year or so has been about resetting my priorities, or perhaps more likely, correcting them. Through conscious effort, I have tried to keep my family above my work (read: "the things I do"), and this can be somewhat of a challenge considering I have more jobs than I have family members. In some ways, I have found it very hard to "reprogram" the way I live my life.

In all cases, I have found it the difficulties well worth the trouble. This picture is a great example of why.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Harwell family band practice

2010-04-18T19:31:00.001-07:00

I'm not a stage dad... I promise.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

All is well; all is new

2010-04-06T07:34:00.001-07:00

Today, I'm in Clermont, FL doing some music and hanging out with J.Rich and Jeremy Ezell. It's good times.

But a couple of days ago we had Easter, and that's really what this post is about.

Perhaps for the first year ever, I did not go to an Easter service with either my family or my wife's family; we actually went to our own church. And on this particular Sunday morning, our church welcomed Adam Lambert from Jewish Believers in Jesus to walk us through a passover seder and to illustrate how Jesus brought passover (deliverance, redemption, restoration, forgiveness) to it's absolute fulfillment.

We took communion with unleavened bread, and as I did, I felt within my own heart a smallish voice say to me, "It is done! All is well! All is new!"

And I thought of our friend Mike Sweeney.

And I thought of my father in-law and my sweet mother in-law who would have celebrated their 40th anniversary this Easter morning.

And I could not stop weeping because in that moment both the pain of loss and the triumph of the resurrection became very, very real to me.

It is done.

All is well.

All is new.

I cannot tell you how I cling to these words. And even as my heart is heavy, I rejoice that all has been made right again. In fact, it's probably because I feel the loss that I rejoice all the more.

I'm getting older, and this is getting harder. But this...this is what Easter is all about: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mikesweeney/journal

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

To sum up...

2010-03-31T21:07:00.001-07:00

Here's a summary of a really long blog post that I read but deleted for being too long:

- I am made to make stuff.

- I create because I am a creation in the image of a Creator, and my DNA compels me to imitate that creative process.

- Though they are not all that different, I have always treated visual art and music very differently in terms of the creative process.

- Visual art was about exploration and play and was process-driven; music was about performance and coolness and was product-driven.

- This has been an obvious (but completely earth-shattering) revelation to me.

- I have never considered with visual art that it's wrong when I don't know what I'm doing ahead of time. It's really just about making stuff. And while much of it hasn't been anything special; a few things (like my one-man seesaw; or, as I call it, the "Mee-Saw") were pretty decent. But the end result was not something I had a grip on at the outset.

- Music making has been the opposite. I am paralyzed when I sit down to write or record. There are decisions to make, and they must be the right ones. I must adhere to some rules that may or may not really exist, at least to me. Rules about how things should sound or what-instrument-goes-where-in-a-song.

- I used to play guitar in my room for hours, recording into the tiny mic input of a boombox while trying to figure out how to record the sound of my guitar amp being played through a box fan without recording all the fan noise, too. I failed at that, by the way. Now I tend to want to write some chords and verses and map the whole thing out before I even play a note.

- That last sentence shows me how off I've been. Music is inherently mathematical, so yeah, there are some things any good musician needs to know. Things like what-chords-are-in-the-key-of-A. But...

I'm just saying that the concept of exploration and play is in there, too. And that my DNA is telling me not to ignore it anymore.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Um, about "giving up"

2010-03-24T14:16:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I'm not giving up completely. I guess I didn't do a very good job of being clever as a writer with my last post (or maybe it was way longer than the limits of attention span).

Either way, allow me to clarify:

I love music, and I will certainly continue to write and record it as long as I have the ability to do so.

That post was really about a realization that more than a ways to make a living (or to attempt to make a living), music is a very essential part of my life. It helps me have some semblance of balance as a human. In short, if I don't make music, everything gets out of whack. I need to make music.

Now since writing and recording (and occasionally performing) songs is something that keeps me sane, I have decided to give my time to it in the most healthy way I can. And for me this means I'm not shooting for a career at it, nor am I looking to make any real money from it. Somehow this feels great - I get to do what I love without the parts that really dragged me down.

It also frees me up to see if there are ways in which the art I make (notice I said "art" and not "music") can do something. You know, raising money and awareness for people and organizations that are doing what Jesus did - healing the sick, caring for the marginalized folks around us, and generally looking to do for others instead of ourselves. Things that resonate closely to my own heart.

More on all this as things come to pass. Of course, they may not come to pass. I guess you'll have to wait and see. Or not - that's what freedom is kind of about. Just know that though my musical output as been pretty nonexistent for a while, I have been writing and demoing new stuff for since February of last year. It's been slow, and it's kind of different, but I'm the most excited about my own music now than I've been since Alive in the Fall.

I hope you'll stick around to see what comes of it, but hey, if not, thanks for stopping by.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

I'm giving up

2010-03-17T07:28:00.001-07:00

On a music career. You know, the one I never really had or wanted.

Giving up isn't bad at all, really, if what we're giving up are the things that keep us from being truly alive. Seth Godin wrote a book a while back called The Dip which at its core was about knowing when to quit doing the things that don't work to the sometimes radical changes that will help you to get out of "the dip." Now, he's writing mostly about business and marketing, but I think the sentiment is applicable in a broader sense, too.

For me, this translates (naturally) into music. [Just as an aside, I tend to take EVERYTHING to two places to make some sense of them: 1.) To sports. Nearly everything under the sun can be illustrated to some degree by a good sports analogy and 2.) To the world of music and the music business. So now you know.] More to the point here, I spent a few years trying to do music the way you were "supposed" to, though I suppose my motivations were not so much in building a career for myself as a musician but rather an organization (a platform) with which I could help other musicians make careers for themselves.

But before I could help anyone, I felt that I needed to see if I could actually do it myself, and so I did the things musicians are supposed to do. You know, trying to build a fanbase, touring all over the place, having a cool haircut, etc. And while I had a blast making albums (even the low-fi "Flavor" ones I did at home), I never felt like the things I was doing really fit, nor was my haircut awesome enough. My efforts always seemed more like a means to an end (the "end" being a vault of experience that I could use to help other folks who did have awesome music and haircuts), but ultimately I was never successful at that part because it wasn't really something for which I felt a true passion. I was trying to shoehorn my foot into an ill-fitting shoe, and in the end, all I got out of it was a funny walk.

So here, months after I gave on trying to learn to walk in the wrong shoes, I am free to pursue and create music (and other things) with my heart. No more trying to build a fanbase. No more playing anywhere and everywhere just because I felt I had to have something to do (and to promote). No more personal branding. No more music business. No more "bigger and bigger" but more "smaller and smaller." Ah... it feels good.

Now, a couple of things I need to say here at the end. One, I'm not trying to discourage you or anyone from pursuing a career in music if that's what you want to do. Seriously. Go do it. Now. And two, if you choose, you could probably look at my "career" and surmise that I'm writing this blog post in this way because I wasn't talented enough to "make it" anyway. Well, you may be right.

But I also know now at the age of 31 that during the ten years that I tried to "do the music thing," I never once felt like I was doing something natural as a touring performing artist. Writing songs? Yes. Recording? Definitely. Building relationships through music? More please. But trying to "make it?" Nope. I mean, I ran a nonprofit for crying out loud.

So your road may lead you to being the world's next big rock band. I will cheer you on, knowing that I was not made to do what you do. Also, please remember to thank your mom when you win your first Grammy. But I'm excited now that my own road is in a direction of dropping the baggage of what I'm "supposed" to do to make the music I've always wanted to make, to play with the ideas I've always had of how to set it free into the world, and to hopefully build deeper bonds of friendship and brotherhood with the community of other artists I am blessed to have in my life. The art - the music - gets to exist on its own without me having to constantly pimp it out to anyone within earshot or feeling the pressure of making it support me financially.

I read this this morning from Oswald Chambers' My Utmost For His Highest:

"Paul [the apostle, not the Beatle - j.] is like a musician who does not need the approval of the audience if he can catch the look of approval from his Master."

I would say if I can do that, I will have been successful at my music. So here's to giving up on the things that never fit and giving my art (and myself) over to something better.

More to come.

I think.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Untitled

2010-02-23T19:05:00.001-08:00

via Seesmic

Posted via web from JasonHarwell.com

While I'm at work, this is what happens:

2010-02-16T13:05:00.001-08:00

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Six seconds of recorded music that altered history:

2010-02-10T09:57:00.001-08:00

I haven't seen the whole documentary, but this 20 minute clip was fascinating all by itself. I've heard this sample ALL OVER THE PLACE (most notably in my memory as part of the Ocean's 11 soundtrack).

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Sam Heilig's Album Cover or Part Of What I Do For A Living

2010-02-04T13:47:00.001-08:00

This is some of my most recent design work (you know, as in one of my handful of part-time jobs) for Sam Heilig's debut EP, Between Here & Home (produced and recorded by my good friend Paul Reeves). I'm really happy with how it turned out, and as always, my goal to try and make something that looks like the music sounds.

So if you're wondering what Sam's music looks like, here it is. Of course, if you'd rather just know what it sounds like, he's putting up a track a week building up to his official release show here in Athens on Wednesday, Feb. 24th at Tasty World (with John French and Emily Hearn also joining the bill). I tell you all that in case you see the album cover and want to know what it sounds like, leading you to surf on over to his music page, which in turn leads you to think, "Boy, I sure wish I could see Sam play these songs live."

I'm just here to help.

I appreciate Sam trusting me with his project - it was a blast!

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Birthday Presents/Presence

2010-02-02T20:54:00.001-08:00

Today I turned 31 years old.

My birthdays growing up tended to feel like ordinary days, but that was because they were ordinary days generally. Unlike my friends with summer birthdays, my birthdays usually began with me standing out at the end of our driveway waiting for the bus to come pick my brother, sister, and I up for school. In my memory it was often raining, and it seems to me that the rain was generally colder on the second of February than the first or third. Then, upon arriving to school, I was inevitably greeted with jokes about seeing my shadow and stuff about groundhogs, a complex experience for me in that my birthday just happened to share the day we look to a specific variety of ground rodents to predict the weather, two things that to me seemed unrelated. But after Bill Murray made a movie about reliving the same day over and over again, and after calling that movie Groundhog Day, and after having a birthday on the actual Groundhog Day on which people said the exact same things to me over and over again made the two things seem very related.

But it wasn't so bad really. My parents always made my birthdays special, and except for the year I was sick and nearly threw up on my cake notwithstanding (the fact that I threw up right next to it didn't seem to deter anyone from eating it, by the way), I've always enjoyed kind of ordinary-but-special birthday celebrations.

But from start to finish, today was an absolutely perfect birthday and not at all ordinary.

I awoke to find a smallish blue-eyed little girl patting me on the arm and frantically telling me "Happy Birthday," partly because she was excited and mostly because we were having breakfast in bed and she knew she couldn't eat a cinnamon roll until I was up. The whole family crowded in, and we gorged ourselves on the sweet, sweet sugary rolls until we dared not eat anymore, which is when that same smallish blue-eyed little girl felt the sugar kick in and proceeded to play tag with her mom and dad, which amounted to her running around the end of the bed from one side to the other, smacking each of us on our arms, and yelling, "Tag! You're it!" at the top of her lungs. Our baby boy watched it all, as he normally does, with a look equal parts horror, amusement, and confusion.

After breakfast and showers, I was sent away from the house to do whatever I wanted to do for the day. Being for the moment in between graphic design projects and a day of the week I don't normally go to one of my other jobs, the world was my playground. And so I did what I tend to do on such rare occasions - I played guitar for a good long while. It was great fun spending the afternoon in our band's practice space, making racket and getting our makeshift studio ready to record an album this month.

Right as I was finishing up the studio bit, my great friend Paul Reeves called, and we met up at Walker's to hang out for a bit before I was to return home at 6pm, under strict orders from my lovely wife. Upon arriving home, I opened the door to the aroma of beef stew and a well-dressed group of Harwells (including my five-month-old son in a Bart Scarborough-approved Polo onesie that someone gave him). I opened some sweet cards from special people and two wonderful gifts - copies of Iron & Wine's Shepherd's Dog and Nada Surf's Let Go on vinyl. Ummm... vinyl.

Then the doorbell rang, and for the next half hour or so, our tiny house filled up with nearly every one of my favorite friends here in Athens, some of whom came even though they felt a little under the weather. I was truly surprised and very much overwhelmed, kind of like Jimmy Stewart at the end of It's A Wonderful Life. Our house was very loud for a while as we ate cake and drank coffee and told ridiculous stories and tried to be funny, and it reaffirmed a thought I've been living with for a little while about how someone's presence is much better than their presents (though presents are nice, too).

I've made it through 31 years, but I don't really know how many I've got left. My mom is certainly trying to help me live longer (she got me a pedometer, some vitamins, and a bottle of fish oil pills for my birthday), but despite her best efforts, the length of my days is anyone's guess. We have some friends who have been dealing with the realness of our own mortality for years now as one has fought cancer twice and is in now in a place where the doctors are running out of options. They literally (and valiantly, I might add) are having to focus on the day while it is today for tomorrow can be something very hard to think about. Mike is an amazing man, and we are praying for a miracle.

So when I look around my tiny living room and see people who have shared their lives with me and helped to mold my own, I am unable to deal with the thankfulness I feel for each of them. I keep thinking this day matters to me. These people matter to me. I used to run a record label and do things that people might find interesting, but I do them no longer. And despite the "ordinariness" of the life I am forging in my thirties, I am fortunate to have people who want to show up unannounced and crowd my house and eat my birthday cake. They didn't have to be here, but they were here just the same.

I sure am looking forward to dropping the needle on these shiny new pieces of vinyl tomorrow at my office, but the best birthday gifts I got were the thoughtful calls, emails, texts, and tweets from people I don't get to see nearly enough, and visits from people I am thankful to see daily.

And the pedometer, Mom. Can't forget the pedometer. I took nearly 6000 steps yesterday...

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Conan lost me

2010-01-22T08:03:00.001-08:00

I have always really loved his show, and I think it's terrible that he's gotten the wrong end of the stick when it comes to the Tonight Show. But rather than take the lumps (and the buyout) over to a different network in the fall, he turned his last week of the Tonight Show into a "stick it to NBC as hard as humanly possible" show.

I certainly don't know how it would feel to be in his position, to have your dream job stripped from you after only a few months, and I imagine his anger is justifiable (especially when he's lost the rights to so many of his character creations). But he lost my sympathy with the way he's making his exit.

I should also say that I'm sure he doesn't need my sympathy.

Watching him blow $1.5 million just to jab at NBC doesn't change my feelings of hope that Conan will find success with whatever network he lands on in the fall, but it shows me that he's just as willing to hit below the belt as the network did.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

The Heaviest Decade

2010-01-11T07:45:00.001-08:00

While brushing my teeth before bed a couple of nights ago, I had these thoughts about my life in this new decade:

During the next ten years...

... I will likely finish having children

... I will be in the prime of my health

... I will reach middle age

... I will have a new career

... I will still not be able to grow anything resembling facial hair

... I will need to make the bulk of my life's money (yikes!??)

... My life will probably not make much money (double yikes!)

... I will still want to drive an old Jeep

... I will probably drive a 2002 yellow Mazda

... The Warm Fuzzies will likely reach the finish line

... We will still probably have copies of bubblegum-scented CDs in boxes in our house

... I will still bang out songs on whatever's laying around

... I will meet new friends and build new relationships

... I will lose touch with people I care about

... I will probably move to a different home

... my children will experience those golden years of childhood

... People I love dearly will die

... I'll be ten years closer to my own death

... We'll all lose something dear to us.

... There is no guarantee I'll even survive it

I feel cursed sometimes by the fact that I rarely think about the good without the bad. I guess the opposite true as well (and is a bit more optimistic). My enthusiasm is always tempered by caution, and my caution is always warmed by the hope I have that things will turn out okay. Is the glass half-empty or half-full? All I see is "both."

But I do know I will need Jesus to be more real to me in these next ten years than in the three decades preceeding. And though I imagine I will see 2020 (no pun intended) having hurt more than ever, I also believe I will have hoped, loved, and laughed more than enough to tip the scale toward that glass being a little more filled.

To arrive at 2020 without some tragedies is impossible, but if and when I reach it, I hope to simply be ten years better.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Molly: The Artist In Her Natural Habitat

2010-01-08T05:48:00.001-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Goodbye, Fender Twin Amp; You'll Forever Rock In My Heart

2010-01-06T06:01:00.001-08:00

A couple of days ago I sold my beloved Fender Twin to a gentleman in one of my very favorite Athens bands, Doctor Squid. (I should also mention that my 3 year old considers them her favorite band, which means I've listened to their record nearly every day since February of last year... and it still holds up).

It needed to be done: since I bought my dream amp in late '08 (my equally beloved Mesa/Boogie Mark III), the tried-and-true Twin hadn't seen much use. And it really deserves to be played. Plus, I needed the money to put towards what I hope is some kind of future in recording things, and let's face it, money ain't exactly just laying around everywhere these days.

So allow me a brief (yet absurd) moment to tell a piece of electronic equipment thanks for all the years of rocking and rolling.

I bought the amp off eBay when I was a senior in college (waaaaaay back in '00-'01). Having lived through the suicide of my second Peavey combo, I scrounged some money and bought something with tubes. Something that weighed nearly 80 lbs. Seriously, that thing is heavy... I really needed one of those contractor harness things or at least a weightlifter's belt to avoid a hernia.

The Twin served me well through my college band (the barely-remembered Waleska, GA Christian folk/rock five-piece Copper John) and on to California and back when we started Rebuilt Records. Every Flavor of the Week track featuring guitar was recorded with that amp, though it rarely left the house during my Alive in the Fall years.

But when the Warm Fuzzies came calling, the Twin was first to volunteer, and the Bubblegum EP is the sound of a whole 'lot of it (as well as Davey's Pro Junior).

I really like building history with the things I "own." I use quotations there because I don't really "own" anything for perpetuity; at some point things will pass on to someone else. I'm really coming to enjoy that. When I play my most beloved instrument, the Buddy Holly reissue Gibson J-45 my lovely wife gave me when we got married for my children as they sleep or dance around the house, I imagine that one day it will fall to them. I hope they're nicer to my instruments than I was to my father's...

Now, I know artifacts don't have souls, but just like the Velveteen Rabbit who became more real with every bump, scrape, and tear, I like to imagine that my hands are somehow shaping these instruments into a story worth passing on to my kids (and their kids and their kids).

Besides, money ain't just layin' around these days, and a few guitars may be all I've got to give them (so those stories better be good).

Farewell, Fender Twin - thanks for a decade of awesomeness.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Songs About Time, etc.

2010-01-05T06:39:00.001-08:00

"So the songs are about time, and they're about getting on with it. Whether you like it, or think you could improve with it, you've just got to get on with it, because there's another one you've got to do. So it's just about moving forward instead of spending so much time laboring over things that may mean a great deal to me but mean nothing to anyone else. So this year has been about not getting caught up with that, and just moving on." - Matt Sharp of the Rentals

This quote is from a recent interview (http://rumbum.com/651-it-39-s-about-time, if you're interested) in which Sharp discusses the completion of the Rentals' "Songs About Time" project, one of the most expansive and riveting artistic challenges I've ever seen. For all of 2009, Sharp shot a roll of 35mm film and posted one picture a day online. Each week the band produced a short film and a musical score to accompany the film, and every four months, the band released an EP. I can't believe they pulled it off.

One of my lasting memories from 2009 will undoubtedly be eating my lunch at my office desk and watching that weeks short film. I'll certainly miss that.

I love this quote; it resonates deeply with the part of me that makes my own music/art/whatever. 2009 was about a lot of moving on for me, which is probably why a project called "Songs About Time" captured my attention for 52 weeks. Last February, I attempted to record an album as part of the RPM Challenge (http://www.rpmchallenge.com)... I failed miserably. But I loved the pace; I loved that I was forced to come up with something without the benefit of thinking about how "good" it was. The challenge was to ignore the "critic" part of my mind... that annoying part that watches what I do and then pops up on my shoulder to tell me how awful it is. And while I really only finished one song, I recorded music to 10 or so, and in the months since, I've been listening to some of that music in my car in an attempt to find some vocal melodies and see what these songs are about. And when I do finish them, I don't think I'll do much editing to the tracks. I like that they are as they are, a document of sorts, of February 2009 (and whenever I record vocals, I guess).

One of my favorite Tom Petty songs has the line, "Time to move on/ Time to get goin'/ What lies ahead I have no way of knowin'/ But under my feet, baby, grass is growin'/ It's time to move on, time to get goin'"

Life seems to be more and more about the process. I like this. Here's to moving forward this year.

For more about the "Songs About Time" project, visit the whole thing (even all 52 films!) online here at http://www.therentals.com.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Merry Christmas...

2009-12-25T06:28:00.001-08:00

... from the cutest kids in America.

I sincerely hope that you're finding love, peace, and hope this Christmas season!

Unto us a child is born (or as my daughter's children's bible says, "Our rescuer has come for us!")

See you next year.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

A little mobile recording this morning

2009-12-18T09:55:00.001-08:00

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

What I Don't Want for Christmas (And What I Really Want)

2009-12-06T12:43:00.001-08:00

If you're close enough to me (in a relational sense) that a gift for me is on your list of things to buy, allow me to ease your holiday stress a bit. Here is a list of things NOT on my Christmas list this year:

* No gigantic red bow

* No luxury automobile to hold up the aforementioned red bow

* Nothing from Kay Jewelers (and DO NOT EVEN CONSIDER "Going to Jared")

* Nothing that has the letters "H" and "D" on it

That's the list. But wait, there's more! If you find yourself with something of a dilemma, wondering if the item you're looking to get for me is something I'm really going to like, I want you to do this:

Don't buy it.

Nope. What I'd really like for Christmas this year is for you to share your lives with me.

Here's how it works:

1. If you don't know what to get me, get me something YOU like. Your favorite album. Or movie. Or book. Maybe not your favorite blouse or A-line skirt, but you know, something that means something TO YOU.

2. Or better yet, make me something. A mix CD of songs you love. Write me something. Cook for me your favorite dish... I promise I will eat it. Forget the price of things; free is good, too.

3. Go green by recycling something you don't use anymore. Do you have any old tools? I could probably use them. Or instruments or firewood or whatever. (Maybe not actual recycling, though; I've got enough cardboard and milk cartons to last a while).

4. Or maybe beat the recession by giving me the gift of your time. Let's get lunch; we'll go Dutch. Or coffee. Or let's just get water. Or we'll throw the football (I haven't gotten to do that in years). Maybe we could catch a movie (we could rent one, or go to the theater, or watch whatever Meredith Baxter movie is on Lifetime). Do you play music? Let's do that. We'll record it and laugh about how awful it sounds. Board games are awesome ways to hang out or heck, we could just go for a walk. See where I'm going with this?

Now, I'm not trying to be a Scrooge and discourage you from buying me (or anyone) something if you'd like to do that. We always say that it's better to give than to receive, and I am certainly not about to tell you how to give. But I want you, Person I Care About Deeply, to know that more than anything else, I would like to get to know you a bit better. To receive the gift of a glimpse into your life. To know what's important to you, because you're important to me.

It might actually be harder to do that than to just buy me a gift card, and you may be more comfortable with the gift card. Do that then; I mean, for crying out loud, we've made this season so stressful. I'm simply (and honestly and deeply) offering you the freedom to give as you see fit. And maybe I'm challenging you a bit, too. As I said in my last post, I'm kind of waging this internal war against the debt-inducing holiday madness, and I've seen that the best things in my life don't need batteries or extended warranties.

So this year, please don't spend hours trying to think of what to get me; just sharing your life with me is worth more than all those blasted luxury car commercials.

******

SIDENOTE: I just re-read this post, and I'll admit, it sounds kind of silly. Sappy, even. But so be it; I'm dead serious.

And there ain't nothing sappier than those ridiculous Kay ads.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

May It Be To Me As You Say

2009-12-03T07:01:00.001-08:00

More than any other year in my memory, this year my entire insides are fighting to put aside all the Black Friday nonsense and arrive at a deeper level of joy and understanding of the birth of Jesus (It's like 1080p, only better because it's real and doesn't become obsolete five seconds out of the box).

Not to say that buying people things isn't a good thing to do, just that we've turned it into something kind of ridiculous, you know?

At any rate, I want to know the real Jesus, and I want him to change my heart. I don't want to put my faith in the hands of anything (or anyone) else than the actual son of God. I'm not looking for a guru, or a spiritual advisor, or someone to teach me about being a good leader nor am I satisfied with the pasty-white outer glow of all the things people say that he is. I want the real guy or I want nothing at all.

Faith is a hard thing to have and a much harder thing to keep. And I'm more and more convinced that it's not about having some bulletproof attitude that weathers all attacks from all the "heathens" and "pagans," but is more about perseverance, humility, and dedication. There's a story in the Bible where Jacob wrestles an angel... and bests him (sidenote: I can't read that passage anymore without hearing Bono singing "Bullet the Blue Sky" in my head). Now, I've not gone toe-to-toe with any angels, but I wrestle with all kinds of doubts. You can't live an authentic life of faith without some doubts, especially when you live in a culture such as ours where believing in anything supernatural is increasingly seen as small-minded and asinine. But Jacob wrestled with the supernatural, too, so maybe I've got a shot.

All this to say that I'm trying very hard to see the truth with my own eyes. I know the Christmas story by heart because it's been everywhere since I was a kid. But do I really know the story as it is written? And does the story of Jesus' birth hold more for me than what I've known about it my whole life?

I think so, but I guess we'll see.

I will say that in reading through the first chapter of Luke this morning, I was struck by Mary's response to the angel Gabriel when he tells her that she's going to give birth to the Son of God:

³⁴"How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"

³⁵The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called^[c^] the Son of God. ³⁶Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. ³⁷For nothing is impossible with God."

³⁸"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her.

(Luke 1:34-8 NIV)

It's the last part I'm taken by right now. "I am the Lord's servant... may it be to me as you have said." If an angel showed up and told me I was going to do something like give birth to a holy child, I would be terrified (and not just because I'm a man). That's a pretty huge responsibility to drop on someone. I would be filled with all kinds of worry, anxiety, and doubt. What if I messed it up? What does this mean for my future? What the heck is going on?

And I don't know how Mary felt. But I know that her response is to accept it all - all the potential shame she'd face from being an unwed mother, all the worry about her future, all of it - and chose to simply trust that whatever God would have happen to her is the best possible thing for her.

This is not touchy-feely, live-your-best-life-now faith; this is your-life-is-forever-altered-and-it's-going-to-be-incredibly-hard faith. A you-could-die-for-this faith. This is good for me to hear. Sure, I have ideas and plans and things I'd like to do and things I wish I could do and all those kinds of thoughts, but more than that, I want to be like Mary, telling God that if he'd prefer me to be a guy with a bunch of part time jobs and a hard drive full of music fragments that may never be heard by many people, I will accept it. I don't mean to say that I shouldn't want to dream big things, only that I accept that my primary goal in my life is to know this real Jesus, to love others as he loved, and to let all else remain lower than those two on my list of priorities. God is weird; he doesn't make sense in a lot of ways. But maybe the most important thing I'll do in my life will happen at a copy shop where I do typesetting part time, all because I was willing to be where he wanted me to be.

Now, I hope to find a job that I really love. I hope to put out music that means something to someone. And I'd really like to have an old Jeep one day. Maybe I will. But let it be for me as you say, Lord. As you say.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

Being Haunted (In A Good Way)

2009-11-25T20:08:00.001-08:00

Slowly and surely, I am finding that if given the time to simmer, I may just have some songs left to write. And in the past, I think the best ones have been the ones that haunted me, the ones that ran on loop in my head throughout the day, when I tried to go to bed at night, and at just about every point in between. I've got a small handful of new songs on a mental playlist currently pummeling my brain nonstop, and I hope that means they're worth hearing.

Now, having these songs bouncing around in my head can be a bit maddening in the context of how I write music. It's a pretty rare feat for me to sit down and knock out a song in a few hours; instead, I've come to accept and embrace that for me writing is an evolutionary process. Lacking a real base of musical theory, I tend to approach the process by playing with sounds and letting my mind run to wherever it goes. This means that I may come across a chorus melody that will bounce around in my head for days, weeks, months, or in some cases, years before I can find where it goes. It's like planting seeds and having to keep watering and waiting until the dang thing flowers. But it also means that I might have a chorus that runs on repeat over and over and over and over and over and over (you get the idea). If someone asks, "When are you putting out something new," I always feel like a loser when I answer, "I'm not sure... hopefully soon," but the answer is honest. It's done when it's done.

And yes, it does require discipline and effort, but for me the effort and discipline is comes in the form of setting aside time specifically to explore and experiment. But I still have no idea how long it will take.

Still, it's just nice to feel creative again. As I'm moving forward, helping my musical children to grow up, I'm also moving further and further away from what I've done in the past. I would really like to have something to share with people, and if you're reading this, you're probably among those who I want to share my music with most. Thanks for sticking around; you're incredibly patient.

The old aspirations are dying out in my heart, and that's good. On the other side of all the things one is "supposed" to do is a much larger world full of all the things one can do with music.

For now it's nice to have music haunting me again. Maybe there's still a few bats left in the belfry after all.

In due time, in due time.

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

People I'm Thankful For, 11.24.09: Parks Carpenter & John Dunn

2009-11-24T09:25:00.001-08:00

(photo: Parks, John, and yours truly on my couch last night)
I'm really thankful to have Parks Carpenter and John Dunn in my life. Parks isn't in my life physically as much as I'd like (living in Wilmington, NC), but I'm ecstatic that John and his wife Tara once again call the Classic City home. Both of these guys are brothers to me.
In my undergrad years at Reinhardt College (apparently about to be renamed "Reinhardt University"), I played in a band called Copper John. There were five of us - me, Parks, John, David (from my last post), and Jacob (who'll likely be my next "thankful for" subject) - and while we didn't do much worth writing home about during our tenure as a band, we did do a fair amount of hanging out at Parks' cabin in Jasper, GA. And when I say "cabin" I mean it in the Pioneer sense, as in "no heat or air conditioning." It was awesome. Parks grew up in Papua New Guineau, so his decor was wild.
John was my roommate my senior year at Reinhardt. He also owned me at racquetball (seriously, I don't know if I ever beat him, and we played ALOT). John is, without a doubt, one of the most unique people I have ever met. There is no one like John Dunn. NO ONE. If you've ever heard my old "Flavor of the Week" song, "Tae kwon John," you have heard of John Dunn.
I can be guilty of being a little too intense, to focused on the difficulties in front of me or on the uncertainties of tomorrow; Parks taught me how to lighten up, how to be naked (in a metaphorical sense, and well, at times, a literal sense). I owe a lot to him.
And John taught me a lot about being comfortable in my own skin. I'm not sure whether John thought of himself as I did, but he always seemed to carry himself with a quiet confidence. He also didn't seem to get bogged down by what others thought of him (on a side note, John once wore the same shirt for an entire summer just to see if he could do it. He did. I find this endlessly impressive). A deep, creative thinker, and a really good friend to a lot of people. He is also still learning to break dance.
Both of these guys have encouraged me through some of my rougher times, offering wisdom when I needed it and on some occasions, some tough love. Parks also threw John's Hangin' Tough CD out of the window of his Jetta, which was then crushed by a speeding semi. This ALWAYS gets brought up.
My life is better because of these two men. Who are you thankful for?

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

People I'm Thankful For, Vol. 1: David Herndon

2009-11-18T19:33:00.001-08:00

Being the season for giving thanks (historical accounts notwithstanding), I wanted to use this blog to simply give thanks for those folks who have made my life what it is (and hopefully, by doing so, combat the hardness of my own heart).

Today, I'm giving thanks for my friend David Herndon. I actually meant to do this on his birthday a couple of weeks back, but you know how life is....

I can say without exaggeration that David played a huge part in saving my life. He and I met as freshmen at Reinhardt College in 1997, and I can't quite remember how we came to hang out so much, but by the end of Fall quarter, we were making plans to start a band (though "duo" is a more accurate description). It was a great time for me.

But more than hanging out and playing guitar in our dorm rooms, I was drawn to David by his own passionate pursuit of Jesus. And not the stuffy, meek and mild Sunday School Jesus with little lambs and small children - the real, still-doing-stuff Jesus who was much bigger than all my old childhood lessons. Having grown up in church, I knew all those stories, but somehow I had still come to think of God as some sort of spiteful judge waiting to smite me when I screwed up. He seemed to like smiting for some reason.

I don't think that came from my experiences at church growing up, but until college, I had never really considered that Jesus could be someone other than a guilt trip trying to kill my buzz.

At least until I met David.

In David I saw someone who was searching for the truth of who Jesus was, beyond all the stories, all the anecdotes, all the information and misinformation. Though firm in his convictions, he was not trying to push a theology or dogma or anything like that on anyone. He was simply trying to figure out as best he could what his life would look like if he knew more and more deeply the real Jesus.

And somewhere deep in my own core, I wanted the same thing. High school was an especially weird time for me, and I felt angry for most it. I'm still not sure what about. But it made things hard at home, and when you factor in my own air of knowing it all - as 17 and 18 year olds can be prone to developing - I was a rain cloud always hovering around somewhere. I wasn't content - not with myself or my life.

Because of David's search for Jesus, I too began looking for him. I began to ask some real questions, things like, "Do I believe all this stuff because I've been brainwashed as a child, or is this for real?" Questions I think we all need to ask of ourselves.

And as I sought answers to these questions,I began to let go of the ideas I had set forth for my life - what it would look like, all the things I wanted to have, etc. And in large part because of those experiences, I started a record label hoping to help artists make some sort of positive impact on our culture. Ultimately, I gave my life over to this man, this conundrum, this Jesus, who I had begun to see and know in my own life.

After our first summer of college, I followed David down to work at Epworth By The Sea on St. Simons Island as a camp counselor, partly because it seemed fun, but mostly because hanging out with David all summer sounded better to me than going back to Eatonton and doing, um, something, I guess.

And that's the summer I met the lovely Jana Dalelio, who I would marry four years later. Who would then bear my two children. You get the drift.

David has been my among my greatest cheerleaders, offering me the kind of unconditional support and encouragement that I needed during the Rebuilt years. He is much smarter than me, which helps, and I have never hung out with him and not been challenged in some way to deepen my own faith. His songwriting is probably my greatest musical influence, and his last Rebuilt record, Into Danger/Out of Rescue, is to me a masterpiece. He has never tried to use his gifts to make himself famous or rich or whatever but has always been an example to me of someone who sought to become the greatest he could be by trying to serve others.

I know this is kind of a gushy, rambling discourse, but David Herndon is someone whose fingerprints are indelibly pressed upon my life. And he wasn't trying to do all these things through our friendship - he was simply trying his best to see the truth of who Jesus said he is, and by doing so, the very direction of my life was changed forever.

I don't get to see David nearly enough anymore, but those years we spent traveling around south Georgia in his Civic hatchback are like gold to me.

I am thankful for David Herndon. Who are you thankful for?

Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com

It is what it is, it was what it was

2009-07-08T09:42:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, we celebrated Independence Day, our country's birthday, on the 4th of July. This comes one day after July 3rd (of course), which is a much less significant birthday - that of Rebuilt Records. I spent much of my time this past weekend away from the world, and most of my thoughts revolved around freedom, independence, and that pursuit of happiness our forefathers declared to be an inalienable right. At some point in the six years since Rebuilt became my full-time activity, I feel like I misplaced these things. And so it is a bit poetic perhaps that here is where we end Rebuilt Records.

I remember July 3rd, 2003 pretty well because I was scared to death. Jana and I arrived that afternoon in Corona, California at the Fireproof house that was to be our office and home. Our furniture and other personal items wouldn't arrive for another week or so (after our moving truck drivers took a "small" detour up to Sturgis, South Dakota for bike week), and so we spent our first night there alone in the dark of our living room, eating In-N-Out burger (because that was the only place we knew to get food), and sitting in office chairs because those were the only things we had to sit on. We sat out on the back patio, listened to the neighbors get drunk, and wondered what in the world we had done.

I kind of miss that feeling. It was scary in that we had committed to do something we had no idea how to do, and we'd essentially put ourselves up to be the ridicule of our families if it didn't work out. But I felt so alive, so free. It was a different world then - literally and figuratively. Musically, the Internet hadn't yet helped make buying music passe´ or leveled the playing field for independents, and there was a very real need for Rebuilt to help artists raise money to record quality albums. As you no doubt know, things today are a bit different. Today, artists can use something like Kickstarter to raise money on their own and manage their own careers through free or next-to-free tools available online. It’s a good time to be an artist and a bad time to be a label.

From the beginning, we wanted Rebuilt artists to have the freedom to grow, create, live healthy, balanced lives, and to take whatever time they needed, but this also created a tension for the label. Rebuilt was born on the notion that for most artists, incessant touring and living on the road is not a healthy way to live, but on the other hand, the label needed our artists to sell enough albums to cover our expenses and pay a few bills. What were we to do, push our friends to “work harder” and “sell more?” Were we to take an increasingly popular stance and sign our artists to 360 deals, essentially collecting money we didn’t earn from every stream of income (like door money from shows)? As we move into a world where music is free, artists will need as much income as they can muster to that they can grow and develop their art into something sustainable. Others certainly feel differently, but we felt to do so would be to become exactly the opposite of what we wanted our label to be.

At the end of the day, Rebuilt was an organization that lived and died on the sale of its recordings, and pinning the blame on “downloading” or “the internet” or whatever is completely asinine. Sometimes the world just changes. I imagine there were a lot of angry scribes in the world when Gutenberg rolled out the movable-type printing press and effectively wiped out their “industry” essentially overnight. But in doing so, he also played a major role in ushering in the Renaissance (look it up). In an age where we’re hell-bent on bailing out all kinds of things, I am of the opinion that sometimes old models need to die off to make room for new and more effective ones. In Rebuilt’s case, we saw no way to retrofit an old model into a new world, at least not at the expense of the people we were actually trying to help.

Certainly, the fact that people are choosing to buy less music these days is a large factor in our decision to close Rebuilt's doors, but that's more of a symptom than the real ailment. While I can deal with losing money (understanding that Rebuilt was always a risk), I became aware that I was in pretty bad shape elsewhere. I was bitter at the way things had been, angry that I didn't do a better job, and hopeless that it would turn around. In truth, I had become a slave to this thing I loved so much. Having no foresight to set boundaries (and not even knowing how), I was never able to break my livelihood from its livelihood. Financially speaking, when Rebuilt took a hit, so did my family, and since we operated as a nonprofit, there was no real way to get back any money we put into it. It follows, then, that as our income from album sales dropped, the financial pressure on the company (and on us personally) only continued to intensify.

Over the last few years, I had come to resent Rebuilt for the ways I had allowed it to drain not only my personal finances, but also my joy, my spirit, and my willingness to want to serve and help others. For a while, I tried to push my nose to the grindstone harder, to raise more money and find some folks to help out; but as the expenses mounted and the income slowed, I found that I just had nothing left when I "hit the gas." This was not how I wanted to live. This was not freedom.

And so freedom is what we have granted our artists. Effective August 1st, all master rights will transfer to the artists themselves and all remaining recoupment debt will be canceled. Our artists are free to do what they will with their recordings with no further obligation to Rebuilt Records. We will continue to offer remaining stock for sale via Rebuilt’s online store as a one-stop outlet for the label’s catalogue and to help pay down our outstanding debt on these recordings, but apart from this, our artists will receive 100% of the income derived from the sales of their recordings. This seemed like the right thing to do - our own little “year of jubilation,” if you will.

Six years ago, we sat in that empty house in Corona because we felt God had asked us to, not knowing how or when it would end. It was a wonderful leap of faith that has changed the course of my life forever. Rebuilt continues to teach me about commitment, community, giving, and service.

In looking back on the days since California, there are certainly things I would do differently. This is to be expected, I guess. And depending on the day, I go back and forth on how I view these six years, whether they were success or failure, accomplishment or defeat. But I feel pretty strongly that each one of our artists is better in some way for having been a part of Rebuilt Records, and I am thankful to have had the opportunity to float alongside them in their journeys. Even six years ago, we made a promise that we would "ride the wave until it hit the beach," and here we are. Just as we felt God calling us to California, it is clear to my heart that he is asking us to put Rebuilt to rest.

Thank you to so many who gave and gave and gave to the vision of Rebuilt Records – financially and otherwise. Because of you, Rebuilt raised nearly $130,000 that went directly to help make the 14 albums baring the Rebuilt hammer. Through your support, our good friend and artist Paul Reeves built a professional-class studio that will continue as a place to document artists’ work and care for them as they grow and develop. Your support helped to encourage the discouraged, and your emails, letters, phone calls, and attendance made us all feel that what we were doing mattered. I could never say thank you enough.

I’ll end here by raising my glass to Jon Black, Micah Dalton, The Goodfight, Paul Reeves, Natalie Moon, and David Herndon, to our family of dedicated donors, and to all who continue to support independent artists; here’s to finding the next wave. It’s been a pleasure.

Jason

Some Unacademic Thoughts On Good Friday

2009-04-10T08:15:00.001-07:00

I cut my grass this morning (last neighbor on the street to do so... sorry, neighbors), which always gives me some uninterrupted time to think. Being Good Friday in the Christian faith, I thought a lot about death - my own, of course, since I'm a self-centered American - but also that of Jesus'.

I also want to be clear that I am not making an attempt here to tell you how to think, feel, or live. I rarely trust my own opinions, though I do know a few things to be true.

Here's some completely unacademic things I considered while mowing the lawn:

1. The process of crucifixion is an especially heinous way to die. What does this say about a God who would choose to die this way? And what does is say about him that he went through with it? I think he must really hate sin, and he must really have wanted to fix the brokenness. He spared no brutality nor did he spare any part of himself.

2. If I was to truly get what I deserve, my death would surely look like Jesus'. But the power of sin died with him, and if I am to truly believe this, then I am to also believe that I have been forgiven, healed, and restored. So when God looks at me, I am holy and blameless as if I'd never sinned at all. If this is true, why then do I continually strive to wallow in my own guilt, shame, and failure when God himself does not see me so?

3. Society likes a murderer. The crowd chose to set free a killer instead of Jesus. Somewhere in there is a distortion in perception. Would an individual, if given the choice, choose to set free a murderer over someone who had been convicted of nothing? I wouldn't think so generally. But our weird world is such that when a bunch of us get together and people are all shouting things at each other, killing innocent folks seems like a perfectly legit idea.

4. Jesus let a murderer off the hook. Under the penalty of the law, Barrabus deserved death; if Jesus was truly who we say he is (the son of God), then he could have saved his own skin. Instead, he let a killer go free. He gave him his life back and with that, Jesus gave Barrabus a choice of what to do with it. Jesus didn't walk around proclaiming his "rightness," and he didn't push himself on anyone. Does this square with what we do as a church in America (me included)?

5. Truth is truth. While not brow-beating others to accept, follow, or worship him, Jesus did speak a whole lot of truth. And the thing about truth is that you can love it or hate it, but it does not change. If something is true, it is not subject to popular opinion, data, or persuasive bantering. Like death. Love it or hate it - you're going to die. And me, too.

6. So what about our own deaths? We are certainly good at using the word "sin" to do whatever we want it to, and much like the word "love," it has lost its effective meaning. Sin is not a list of "Do Nots;" it is more like a condition, a way of being. It's dying a slow death on the inside without even realizing it. It's having no way out of the hole our lives are born into. It's the outcome of the first bad decision being compounded by every other bad decision everyone else has made for the last gazillion years. To say sin is simply using curse words or drinking alcohol excessively is like saying breast cancer is just an illness. Sin is way broader, deeper, and inside our bones than refraining from harsh speech or excessive drinking can fix.

I've been dying since the day I was born. No one taught me how to lie, to hurt, or to hate. Those options came standard. I don't know why deep down I am so angry; by all accounts, my life has been way easier than a lot of folks'. But these things have always been there, and if Jesus is who he says he is, if he truly took all that deep-seeded crap that has always been there and got punished for it... and if I truly am no longer bound to this broken condition... then I pray to see what's on the other side of his death.

For I am familiar with dying; I'd like to know more about living.

People From Way Back Are Excited...

2009-03-27T07:07:00.001-07:00

What a hectic few days! March is just like that, I think. The weather is inconsistent at best (we had 5 inches of snow one weekend and then 75 degree sun the next), the college community is in full spring break mode, and the music community loses about three weeks around SXSW (one before, one during, and one to recouperate).

I've been shooting a lot of video lately (look for a Warm Fuzzies video soon), screenprinting the Goodfight's new album packaging; printing, assembling, and mailing pre-release copies to press; and giving what time I can to helping Jon and Micah on their current tour. It's amazing how quickly I allow these good things to take me away from my own artmaking.

On April 3rd at Eddie's Attic, then, I'll be doing something that is becoming more and more rare... I'll be performing. Just me and my acoustic guitar, no Warm Fuzzies this time, "Just Jason." I'm looking forward to it, and at the same time, I am kind of terrified. I'm going to try and bring out some of the new music I wrote for the RPM Challenge back in February for the first time ever. Heck, if the songs suck, it might be the last time.

You can buy tickets online at EddiesAttic.com, and know that I'll be joined by more amazing artists - Paul Reeves, Bethany Dick, Bonnie Bishop, and the aforementioned Goodfight, who'll be celebrating the acoustic side of his new album, Good & Evil.

The other side of the album is more rock and roll, and as you see below, even people from way back are excited about it.

I hope to see you on the 3rd!

Waxing and Waning...

2009-03-14T22:46:00.001-07:00

It's getting on towards 2am, and I just got home from the Warm Fuzzies show here in Athens with the really wonderful Spring Tigers. I'm really too tired to write a whole lot (for once), but I know that if I wait until tomorrow it won't be the same.

You just never know, you know? We recently played a show with some really great bands, bands we love, and no one really showed to see anyone. It was bizarre. We all thought that show would have been a homerun. Tonight, on the other hand, we didn't expect much; it's the tail end of spring break, it's cold and raining, and the venue is a little off the beaten path. But it was awesome.

Were there a ton of people? There were enough. And I have no idea how it really sounded. But standing there after our set in this tiny room lit only by a spinning disco ball and some Christmas lights while listening to the Spring Tigers, I really felt like I was doing something I've really always longed to do. Good grief, we know there's enough bad shows, so when one of those "special" ones comes along, you have to really record it in your mind to help when things get discouraging.

I've spent a lot of time this week working on social networking sites, uploading label stuff and working towards the Goodfight's new album release. I've spent hours reading blogs by really smart marketers and music business thinkers. I've poured over the words to use in other folks' press releases, bios, and cover letters. I've set up accounts with Twitter, Ping.fm, ArtistData, Spotify, etc. and I'll probably set up an account with whatever comes next. And to be honest, I'm kind of exhausted from all that. Seems a lot like chasing the wind when you feel that what you're putting in doesn't have any effect on what comes out.

But to play a song that you helped write with some of your good friends and to look out and see people nodding and moving along with smiles on their faces... yes and thank you.

Small things mean everything.

2009-03-10T18:25:00.001-07:00

The new camera is in the mail, so it's time to execute some Warm Fuzzies music videos...

2009-03-10T09:52:00.001-07:00

As a musician, is it wrong to want some sort of mild physical harm to come to the guy playing the flute every afternoon below my office?

2009-03-10T06:51:00.001-07:00

How does one deal with inertia? It's easier if the climb is downhill.

2009-03-09T13:20:00.001-07:00

finished getting posters sent for the "All the Lads & A Lady" tour w/@whoisjonblack, @MCDalton, @ryanhornemusic, and others...

2009-03-09T05:54:00.001-07:00

Ah, spring break in Athens... when the adults take back the city for week!

2009-03-08T19:08:00.001-07:00

Fantastic... efficiency is going through the roof!

2009-03-08T19:03:00.001-07:00

trying ping.fm to update social networks... let's see what it does...

And so it ends...

2009-02-28T22:04:00.000-08:00

Well, it's official... looks like I won't be finishing my album for the RPM challenge. With a few songs left to finish, I awoke this morning with a purpose and focus not unlike a tightrope walker hovering hundreds of feet above the ground. Faced with a daunting task, I looked incredulously at myself in the mirror and said to my reflection, "Oh, are we gonna do this?!!" and my reflection nodded, "Yes."

I packed a lunch, walked out the door, and fired up the Mazda. "Bring it, RPM, bring it," I thought to myself.

As it turns out, RPM brought it. Today just wasn't the day I guess. The first road block was that I hadn't been out to our practice space (the site of most of these recordings) since we loaded in our gear after the Warm Fuzzies show Thursday at Tasty World. Seeing as it was 3 am at the time, I didn't really feel like setting up mics and re-routing my cables, so today I spent the first half hour of my afternoon plugging things back in and setting up microphones. Strike one.

Strike two came about an hour later when the band next door decided to show up at their rehearsal space. Now, I should say that I knew that recording at a practice space comes with certain inherent risks, as people are free to come and go and play as loudly as they please. I'd been working around that during this challenge, and most of the time, I've made adjustments so that the sound bleeding in from other rooms is either nonexistent or nonobtrusive on the track. Except when the band next door practices. I don't know if it's some weird proximity affect amplifying bass frequencies when they play or something, but the florescent light fixtures rattle and I cannot hear anything playing back in my headphones. They're swell guys, and I have no problem with them playing loud; heck, it's a practice space. But needless to say, this is not a good time to record vocals. Strike two.

Down but not yet out, I figured a change of venue might do the trick. My office is a decent enough place to do some singing, and no one is there on the weekends, so I hurriedly packed up everything I'd need - mics, computer, cables, hard drive, etc. - and scorched some asphalt all the way over to my building. After circling the block a couple of times, I finally found a parking space close enough and rode the elevator up three floors to my own private vocal oasis. And indeed, it would have been great but for the fact that for some reason my hard drive would not (and still won't) boot up. I swapped cables, checked the power supply, restarted the computer a few thousand times, pushed the "power" button on the back of the drive, and nothing worked. No hard drive means no files to work on. And that was the curve ball that got me swinging on strike three.

And that leaves me here, sitting at the little round table in my office writing this blog instead of recording vocals. I'm not sure what's up with the drive, but I have a sneaking suspicion it will work on March 2nd, the day after the deadline. A couple of weekends ago, my G5 studio computer stopped working for about four days before miraculously coming back to life. This is just how things go sometimes, I guess.

So what I feel at this particular moment is a mixture of defeat, failure, exuberance, relief, frustration, and hunger (haven't eaten in a while). I don't think I could have worked on it much harder than I have, so I can't feel that bad about it. Especially since there is neither a reward nor penalty for completing the challenge. In fact, absolutely nothing is different.

But the larger issue (one that I won't get much into today) is more about where I tend to derive my own feelings of value and worth. I find it hard to fall short of any goal, and it doesn't really matter if doing so even affects my life or anyone in it. Nor does it really matter if anyone even knows I fell short. When I feel I have failed at something, I am quick to feel that by extension I am a failure.

This isn't the truth, of course, and I am learning this. I'll be excited to continue to work on this album, and now I get the chance to put it out as I'd really like to. I decided a little while back to call the record "All Things Subject To Change," and this part is just keeping to form.

Sure would have been nice to finish it, though.

New Song Posted, RPM Update, etc.

2009-02-26T08:15:00.001-08:00

So I've been recording this album for the last few weeks, and today I've finally posted the first song, a little tune I'm calling, "Seriously, Hartsfield?" This particular title is something I find myself asking repeatedly every time I have to check bags through Atlanta.

I've got a couple of days left to finish the album, and I'm going to be honest - this thing is all over the place. The more I do this, the more I have come to think that in my own artmaking/songwriting, I am more about ideas and concepts than anything else, and it's really showing here. Especially since I don't have time to do the things musicians normally do when recording an album - things like cleaning up the overt influences in my music, re-arranging things to make the whole thing cohesive, etc.

So this little song is kind of a happy pop song with a little Warm Fuzzies guitar thrown in there set to a loop off my little keyboard from RadioShack. It's rough, but I guess that's the point.

I should also note that this song was made possible by these folks:
Mark Tulk, who recorded organ @ Small House Records in Melbourne, Australia.
Kyle Heimann from the duo Popple, who recorded harmonica & ukele at his home studio in California.
Meg Abbott (who works in Artist Services here at Rebuilt) on the cowbell and tambourine
And of course, there's Mattox Shuler (formerly of the Warm Fuzzies, currently of the Bride), who thew down some serious glockenspiel.

More to come - hope you enjoy.
- jason

February is short on days, long on heart

2009-01-29T07:47:00.000-08:00

February is a big month to be so short, particularly this year. On February 2nd, news reporters give groundhogs like Punxsutawney Phil in PA and General Beauregard Lee down here in the Atlanta area their annual fifteen seconds of fame while I become officially one year older. Sharing a birthday with large weather-predicting rodents isn't the worst thing, I guess, but I'd like to go ahead and say that if you're planning on asking me whether I saw my shadow or not, just know that you are MOST DEFINITELY NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO USE THAT JOKE. Okay, moving on...

This year is especially marquee in that this will be my 30th birthday, which is certainly a milestone. No longer bound by all the things you're "supposed to do" in your twenties, I will finally breathe a sigh of relief and experience the freedom of doing the things I need to do, or dare I say it, the things I want to do. Things like driving a minivan or admitting that I don't particularly like going to large music festivals with crowds of drunk people. Yeah, I'll be more honest and possibly more "old man-like" with my straight talk and black socks, but I'll also just still be the same old guy I've been for the previous 29 years. And I'll really only be one day older...

Maybe the anticipation of all this freedom is setting me up for disaster. A big fall. Embarrassment. Ridicule. Well, that wouldn't be all that different than my previous 29 years, either, would it? At any rate, I've decided to mark this milestone by recording an entire album during the month of February as part of the RPM Challenge. It's pretty simple - 10 songs or 35 minutes just for the sake of doing it. Yeah, this sounds exactly like what I imagine 30 year old me will be like - living on the edge and all.

So here's the deal, though; it's possible that I could do this on my own, but I imagine the 30 year old version of me is going to want some other folks involved. And that's (possibly) where you come in. This project is an excuse to put writing and recording music first for a month, but I'd also like to use it as an excuse to spend time with people that I really care about. People I may not get to see as much as I'd like. So if that's you - and you can make it to Athens sometime in February - I'd love to get you involved. I'm sure we'll find lots of places for handclaps and foot stomps and kazoo ensembles. And cowbell.

See, the process of recording can be too inclusive, too "mystical" and "magical," and though I kind of like the idea of treating the studio as a place where special things happen, recording is really more about the "magic" inside the folks making the sounds. Sure, the right environment can get set the right vibe, but it's up to the musicians to make something exciting. I certainly overuse this analogy, but recording is a lot like Punxsutawney Phil - you can predict the weather, but you can't make it rain. In other words, the conditions can be right, but it's up to the performers to make something happen.

And odds are, if you're going to record 10 songs from start to finish in a month on zero cash in the Warm Fuzzies' rehearsal space, the album is going to have some rough edges. Especially if I'm the one engineering it. But in honor my 30th birthday, I want to share something I care deeply about - making and recording music - with the people I care most about. And I hope we capture some real magic, if for no other reason than because I'm getting older and all seasons eventually come to an end.

Here is my overall outline of the project, something I'm currently calling "J. Harwell & the Alltogethernow:"
Purposes:
1. Satisfy the official requirement of recording 10 songs/35 minutes during the month of February.
2. To make the process of recording inclusive, and to share this process with people in my life who may or may not have recording experience.
3. To capture the process on video, and to update social media as I embark on the process
4. Return to the process of creating/capturing music in my own life and to improve in both areas.
5. To make music fun again.

Parameters:
1. I will utilize our Warm Fuzzies rehearsal space as my primary base of operations for this project. This allows me the freedom to leave instruments prepped to record and an unlimited amount of time/volume.
2. The rig will need also to be mobile, though, in the event that I need to record in spaces other than Pigpen due to geographical, noise level, or other reasons.
3. Songs must be completed between February 1st and February 28th
4. Nothing new will be purchased - I must use the instruments/sounds I have currently available.

We'll see how it goes...

The Rentals' "Songs About Time" project

2009-01-15T12:48:00.001-08:00

It's no secret that I've been spending the bulk of my music creation time with The Warm Fuzzies, and it's no surprise that a large sonic influence on what we've done to this point has been the music of The Rentals.

Though I never would have thought that Matt Sharp would have been the one from Weezer to do something really artful and creative, their new photography/film/music project called Songs About Time is simply amazing. Great concept, great execution.

Simply put, they're documenting a year's time by posting a photo each day, a short film each week, and four EPs throughout the year. It's all black and white and visually amazing.

It's the kind of good that makes you mad that you weren't the one to pull it off.

check it out here.

Red & Black Variety article

2009-01-14T06:31:00.000-08:00

Just a quick little article in the Red & Black, UGA's official student paper::

Click Here to read the article online

"A Rebuilt Family Christmas" Available for Free Download!

2008-12-22T06:43:00.000-08:00

Couldn't make it out to the Melting Point in Athens on December 4th, 2008 for "A Rebuilt Family Christmas?" No worries... we're podcasting most of it. It's a little rough around the edges, but then again, so are we.

Subscribe to the Rebuilt podcast through iTunes, or simply click here to download Part One (approx. 10 megs). Look for Part Two in a few days.

Part One features:
Jon Black: "Christmas Makes Me Happy"
Jim & The Beanstalks: "Let It Snow"
The Warm Fuzzies: "I Want An Alien For Christmas" and "The Grinch"
Micah Dalton: "Merry American Christmas"
Nathan Angelo: "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas/Christmas Song" medley

Part Two will feature:
Jonathan Rich, Natalie Moon, Jon Black, Paul Reeves, Micah Dalton, Ryan Horne, Pilot Coat, and more!

"A Rebuilt Family Christmas" Part Two Available for Free Download

2008-12-22T06:42:00.001-08:00

Part Two of "A Rebuilt Family Christmas" is now available for free download - right click here to download the file (20 megs or so), here to listen online, and here to subscribe to the Rebuilt "Starving Artist" podcast through iTunes.

Here's the second half of the Christmas show:
Jonathan Rich & Natalie Moon: "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus"
Micah Dalton: "O Little Town of Bethlehem"
Ryan Horne: "Silent Night"
Jon Black: "What Child Is This?"
Natalie Moon: "I Wonder As I Wander" & "Do You Hear What I Hear?"
Jim & The Beanstalks: "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings"
Paul Reeves: "Angels We Have Heard On High"
Pilot Coat: "O Come, All Ye Faithful"
Everyone: "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" and "We Wish You A Merry Christmas"

*Scripture read by J. Bart Scarborough, Esq.

How was the Christmas Show?

2008-12-08T17:45:00.000-08:00

Oh, I don't know... you tell me:

** For the sake of full disclosure...we were at the Rebuilt Family Christmas Show on Thursday night, and our waiter told us there were "no plastic cups" to be found at the Melting Point. He brought Molly's water in the JD cup. (I'm just glad she can't read...but we did get a hilarious picture out of it.)

One More Rebuilt Christmas Plug

2008-12-03T12:49:00.001-08:00

If you're in the Athens, GA area tomorrow night, I'd love for you to join us at the Melting Point for the 2nd Annual Rebuilt Family Christmas show featuring just about every Rebuilt artist, and a slew of other people we call family delivering tidings of good cheer and their own renditions of familiar (and not so familiar) Christmas tunes. Last year, we had a blast, and we're looking forward to an even better show this year!

Doors open at 6pm (it's also a restaurant so you can eat), with music from 8-10pm. The event is all-ages, it's smoke-free, and tickets are $5 advance (today's the last day! Click here to order!) or $8 at the door.

Here's the lineup (besides me, of course):

*Micah Dalton
*Jon Black
*Paul Reeves
*Natalie Moon
*Jonathan Rich/the Goodfight
*Nathan Angelo
*Ryan Horne
*Pilot Coat
*The Warm Fuzzies
*Jim & the Beanstalks

We're shooting video and capturing audio, but there really ain't no substitute for being there - hope you can make it!

- jason

CDs that smell like bubblegum?

2008-12-02T07:14:00.001-08:00

I think I've mentioned this before on this blog, but to this point I haven't really elaborated on my most recent musical endeavor, the Warm Fuzzies. Today is special, so allow me a few words about the project.

I have always appreciated the little twists and turns in our lives that make things interesting. It never fails that when you least expect it, something bizarre, funny, ridiculous, or even horrible happens, and it reminds us that our best life plans may or may not even come close to what will really occur in our lives.

More to the point, my favorite band of all time is Weezer, partly because their first two albums are absolutely amazing, but mostly because I was in high school when those albums came out, and I have all kinds of emotional attachments to those songs. The best Weezer song of all time, by the way, is "The World Has Turned And Left Us Here" from the Blue Album. It's got that sweet, crunchy powerpop heft, but the acoustic guitar and love-lost lyrical content makes it feel both happy and sad at the same time. "Wistful," you could say. That's how I feel a lot - a sadness that things everyone I know and love is getting older and closer to death but an excitement and joy that we're all living out our days together in community. A little morbid? Let's move on...

So needless to say, Weezer's first two albums have had a huge impact on the music I love and the music I've always loved to play. In college, I picked up the acoustic guitar to avoid annoying everyone in my dorm, and for the next few years, it was the predominant instrument. I guess it still is, as I write most things on the lovely J-45 my even more lovely wife Jana gave to me as a wedding gift. But I always wanted to play some loud rock and roll, and thanks to the wonder of Myspace, I got the chance.

As it turns out, there was a man here in Athens who had also always wanted to play in a synthy powerpop band, and he came across some of my old "Flavor of the Week" songs and heard the first version of "Hey, Milunka" which was my blatant attempt at writing a Weezer-style tune. After exchanging emails, we started getting together regularly and writing songs, and over a year later (now with a full band and a handful of shows under our belts), here we are releasing our first recording, The Bubblegum EP today.

It's been a labor of love, and it's taken us the better part of a year to record it since we were tracking songs in our spare time. Jason Martin of Starflyer 59 mixed and mastered the disc, and since everyone in the band has graphic design in their veigns, we completely geeked-out on the packaging. The disc itself actually has a scratch and sniff coating that smells like bubblegum, and it comes in an eco-friendly recyclable cardboard "Bazooka Joe" style case with comic strip liner notes. We're really proud of how it turned out.

From the get-go, we have made a commitment to having fun with the Warm Fuzzies. We don't expect that we will ever play to thousands of people, and there may not be thousands of people who would really dig what we're doing. And that's cool, it's not really for everyone, I suppose. But just like my last days in art school when I got tired from everyone being so angst-ridden and depressed all the time, I think sometimes you just want to turn the amp up and kick out some jams about close talkers, Eastern European penpals, and robots. We've got a lot of anxiety these days, but it's good to remember that laughter adds years to our lives and makes things bearable.

If you'd like to hear the EP, you can stream the whole thing at thewarmfuzzies.com, and if you'd like to have your own CD that smells like bubblegum, you can also order one there, too. They make good stocking stuffers.

And if you're in Athens and you don't have anything to do tonight, we're playing our official release show at Caledonia with Jonathan Rich of the Goodfight and Farewell Flight of Harrisburg, PA. Doors are at 10, it's 18+ and $5.

I'm proud to be an American

2008-11-18T06:48:00.000-08:00

I saw this commercial on my flight to Las Vegas this past weekend, and after failed attempts at describing its ridiculosity to my wife Jana, I gave up on ever having someone else share the experience with me.

Until now. Thanks to modern technology (and my friend Erik Kriebel), you, too, can experience a commercial so real it's beyond fake.

Enjoy!

New Albums You Need To Know...

2008-09-30T09:41:00.001-07:00

It's shameless promotion day here at my blog, and I feel no shame because these three recordings are three recordings that I think are among the best albums of 2008. Yeah, I'm biased because I've been involved with each one of these projects, but I've chosen to be involved because I've fallen in love with what these guys are doing. So with absolutely no guilt or pressure, I earnestly encourage you to check out these artists here on Myspace or elsewhere, and if you like what you hear, I encourage you to spend a little money on them so they can continue to make new recordings (which, by the way, is how I think it should be).

Jon Black, Goodbye Golden Age (Released Today!)
Jon is one of those guys who never fails to impress me when he does something new. I always look forward to receiving new demos from him because I know that when I do I'm going to be blown away. Of course, I also get angry because I want those songs on a finished album RIGHT THEN. It's a complicated emotion. In the case of Goodbye Golden Age, I knew when I heard "Broken Places" that Jon was going to make an amazing album. You see, a lot of people live under the impression that you can use a bunch of studio tricks to make something that's not so great into something made of solid gold, but much like cooking, what you get out is due mostly to the quality of what you put in. If a song is great as a demo with just a vocal and a scratch instrument, in just about all cases, it will be great with full accompaniment. And this album is full of those kinds of songs. And now, as I hear them in their fleshed out versions, that feeling just gets better. I can't really pick a favorite because it really just depends on what's going on in life at the time, and I think that's good because it means there's something on here for all situations and moods. You can hear the whole album here at www.whoisjonblack.com and purchase it here or here on iTunes.

Paul Reeves, Winter's Over, (Released 9.9)
I can't really say enough about Paul. He's the man responsible in large part for the quality of albums Rebuilt has released this year. In fact, except for Micah's Pawnshop album, at least half of every other Rebuilt release was recorded at Paul's DOMUS studio. He's either engineered, edited, produced, or played on all these recordings, and usually a combination of a few of those. Clearly, the man has a strong work ethic.

But while you may know about Paul's recording side, you may not know as much about Paul's own music. And you should get acquainted, especially if you're a fan of really good pop songwriting. I tend to hate most pop songwriting; I find most of it contrived, self-absorbed, and whiny (and I realize that makes me a music snob, and that's fine. You're free to listen to whatever you'd like), and I love that Paul is writing in a style that is both really catchy and really deep. Who says you can't have form and substance? I know that others are loving songs like "Mystery" and "Put Me Down" the best, and while I do love them, I think my favorite moments on the album are the more subdued and vulnerable tracks like "Love Has Won" and "Dust and Steam." If you're glued to your Blackberry or can't get off Facebook or are working 80 hours a week and living in your car, you need to hear "Dust and Steam." It's your song. It's a song about me, for sure. Visit Paul here on Myspace, at his official website, paulreevesmusic.com and purchase the album here on Rebuiltstore.com or here on iTunes.

David Herndon, Into Danger/Out of Rescue (January 08)
I've already written about this EP, and since I co-produced it with Paul, I'm REALLY biased about this one. David and I were in a band together in college (I'll give you five points if you can remember which one), and I've looked up to him as an older brother of sorts. I love his music, but mostly I love what he's about. Guys like David make me a better person because I am always challenged to put myself in those soul-stretching places that lead to real personal and spiritual growth. People have given David a lot of flack for calling a song "A Church or A Brothel" and for including the words "porn director" in his lyrics, and while they're certainly free to feel how they want to feel about that, I contend that most of those people have not taken the time to really hear what David is talking about. Rash judgments make long wars. I wish more folks realized that art that tells you what to think is not really art at all but propaganda. David's music is among the most Christian art I know, and I'm not afraid to defend it. So put the rocks down, judge the tree by the fruit, and listen for yourself. Then by all means feel however you want to feel about it - that's the joy of freedom.

And now you can download it for free or pay what you want for it. And if you do like what you hear and you feel like I do that what David is doing is important in the conversation of faith and culture, I encourage you to post this widget on your own social network pages, blogs, etc. to help spread the word. You can keep up with David's journey here on Myspace, at www.davidherndonmusic.com and at davidherndon.wordpress.com.

Okay, I'm off my soapbox. Thanks for reading/listening/being.

Am I Building Something Better?

2008-07-02T19:48:00.001-07:00

While I've been writing for new record that has no title, studio schedule, or release date, I do have a new release on iTunes. Well, kind of. It's actually one of my oldest releases, my first full-length album entitled Building A Better Me. I have mixed emotions about it being there.

All of us (read: "musicians") have one of these albums; the kind that you're almost ashamed has your name on it. The kind that you, the person whose voice comes through the speakers, absolutely refuses to listen to under any circumstances. The kind of recording that inspires you, the artist, to institute some kind of "buy back" program or a CD swap just to get them off the streets. You know, the kind of albums that just aren't very good.

At least to you, the artist.

I recorded Building A Better Me in September of 2001, right after 9/11. It was a weird, uncertain time for me (as it was for all of us), and with trepidation and some anxiety, I boarded a plane in Atlanta and flew to Corona, CA to spend a weekend in the studio. Three days later on my way home I had to connect out of Chicago, but because some moron at LAX left their bag unattended - shutting down the entire airport for three hours while the bomb squad investigated - I missed my connection, which just happened to be the last flight out that night. With night already upon me, and not really sure how to get back to O'Hare if I left - seriously, that place makes no sense - I played it "safe" and spent the night on a bench in the Delta ticketing area and waited for my flight. Plus, my flight left at 6 am, and it was nearly 10 pm when I got there, and figuring security would take me an eternity seeing as our country was on lock-down, it just didn't seem worth it to me to leave when I'd just get to a hotel and sleep for three hours and get back at the airport at 4am. But I digress.

I remember laying on that bench, trying to sleep (but ultimately being unable to) and wondering about my future. About our future as a country and a free society. I wondered about the value of what I had just done; being in the studio making music just didn't seem all that important at that point. Cold and tired, I just felt like most of what I was doing then - trying to do well in grad school and do something with music to help others - didn't do it for me.

So, looking ahead to the day we celebrate our freedom, I wonder to myself, "Are we building something better?" Here, nearly seven years since I slept in that airport terminal with all those questions, am I looking into a better future?

Absolutely.

But that, to me, has little to do with elections or politics or music or culture and absolutely everything with that ever-deepening realization that while I am "free" to a lot of things, there is actually very little that I can even control, and that reality is freeing. Sure, there are days when I feel angry or spiteful that I cannot with my own two hands stop people from killing themselves or each other. That I can't stop fathers from abusing their daughters. That I can't keep the costs of fuel or staple foods down, and I surely can't end a war, help everyone who needs it, or bring home a National Championship for the Bulldogs. But then there are the days when i realize that "freedom" means that I am not asked to do all of these things. It is not up to me to fix everything at once, and certainly not on my own efforts alone. I can hardly pick out clothes to wear, much less solve a nation's problems or cure something like "poverty." But I can do the best I can to look ahead and continue to build, to make something better. Jesus said we'll always have the poor among us, which means our help will always be needed.

Am I building something better? A better me, if you will? No. I can't. I simply cannot make myself better. But if I do the things that make things better for others - treat others with respect, make giving a priority and a habit, laugh when things are funny, lament when things are hard, run a fair business, write honest music, etc. - then I think I can contribute to a culture, a nation, and a world that is maybe better for all of us. That's a bit "We Are The World," but I'm okay with that.

I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes it is the effort that counts. Not to say that we have no responsibility for what comes of our effort, but to say that if we make our attitudes that of service, kindness, and compassion, what comes of our trying will be good. And when it's good, we also see that we really had nothing to do with it and that the burden to fix people was never really ours to bear. We just need to keep showing up, and it just works out in some way.

Building A Better Me is an album that I still receive encouraging emails about from time to time. And though I hear it for its faults, I guess a handful of others don't. And so it went that I decided to put my pride down a little bit and allow this record out a little farther out to be heard. It has my name on it, and I made it, and it's a part of my story. My friends David and Natalie both have albums out (or in Natalie's case, coming out in two weeks) that deal mainly with the fact that small things add up to big changes, and making the Better Me album - however imperfect I may think it to be - made Rebuilt Records a reality. And hopefully, we're adding something of value to this world. And at the risk of being REALLY cheesy, I think that's how we are as people, too. We fail to see our own worth because we focus on what's not so great, but despite our shortcomings, we have the capacity to make things much better for others. So there you have it, a justifiable reason for putting that old album on iTunes.

But if no one buys it, I'll be okay with that, too.