old quote

I got a notice from apple that they wont let me update my website after July. I have no idea why, but it kind of sucks, but brought me back to ye old blog... this was the quote at the top of my website blog, which i think is awesome, and need to find another place for it.

Every moment and every event of every man’s life on earth plants something in his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest imperceptibly in the minds and wills of men. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, because men are not prepared to receive them: for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom, spontaneity and love. - Thomas Merton

there are so many

thinks to be thunk
drinks to be drunk
stinks to be stunk
jinx to be junk
links to be lunk
meeks to be monk
pinks to be punk
rinks to be runk
sinks to be sunk
winks to be wunk

oh kristoffer, where have you been?

picture of me

0 - 13,792

My last day on the big island in hawaii I was asked what I wanted to do. There are so many things to do in that place that it could be hard to figure what the last memory was that i wanted to create. But it didn't take long to decide on Mauna Kea. The highest point in hawaii. so far away and in the middle of the ocean that NASA scientists use it to look at stars. If it's good enough for NASA, it's good enough for me. The sun goes down around 6pm. We left in the afternoon driving from Kona. We stopped in Waimea at a grocery store figuring we would need supplies. I am still paranoid about that couple form SF that got stranded in the snow recently. and now convinced that on long drives, one should pack food for, maybe five days, just to be safe. My traveling companion had a brilliant idea to buy some cheese and bread and salami. It seemed like perfect food for a mountaintop picnic.

The day was gorgeous and the drive up the mountain was amazing, except for the fact that the state of hawaii (at least the big island) is notorious for not taking very good care of their roads. Saddleback road winds up and behind mauna kea and it is very bumpy.

The visitor station near the top is located at around 9200 feet. When we reached this point a very kind gentlemen met us at the drive way. he leaned over at the window and welcomed us. It was like a greeting you'd expect at church. he was very helpful and explained what they do at the visitor station, how when the sun goes down they take out all the telescopes and have volunteers help point out the stars. Up until sundown they show videos inside about what they do at the very top. we asked about driving to the top, and although he did not say we weren't allowed, he did caution us not to. The road to the top is unpaved and climbs over 4,000 feet in only eight miles. So coming down "even in 2nd gear" he warned, you may have to use your brakes quite a bit, which causes them to overheat and "well, we've had a few wrecks."

My companion i think is generally more daring than I. Just a few days prior I had to talk her out of jumping off a cliff with serging waves poinding against a rock wall. but a mountain, sure, I wasn't going to say anything. I also wanted to see what it's like near 14,000 feet. That's almost as tall as mount rainier, which i doubt I will ever see the top of in my lifetime. So after taking his advise of staying at the visitor center for a few minutes to get our bodies accilmated to the altitude (which definately made us a bit light headed) we decided to ascend to the top so we could make it down before dark.

the road, like ai said is unpaved and pretty steep. so steep that you have to keep it in a steady first or second gear and if you stop, you could run the risk of not having enough traction to keep going. so slowly we climbed.

we reached the top and it was, as we were told, quite cloudy. the sun set was just a bright mist behind the clouds and it was very cold. When we turned off the car, it wasn't make such a good noise and there was steam coming up form the engine. I immediately popped the hoop and inspected. the coolent was boiling and near gone.

not more than five minutes after opening the hood a truck pulled along side with a 'park ranger' logo on the side.

"You guys need help." he said. his tone was nice, and legitamately meaningful, however there was a slight fatherly undertone that was more like, "so, we told you you shouldn't have driven to the top, but you did, and I've seen this a few times before." He agreed that boiling coolent wasn't a good sign. "yeah, i know, but what should I do?" I asked. I have some water here, should I pour some in?"

"well, at this point I'm not sure that would do much good. Where you folks from?" we told him Kona. "Do you know how much it cost to tow a car from here, from right here on top of this mountain to Kona?" Before we could respond he knew his line, he's used it before. "$1,000."

I could tell this injected panic into my normally easy going companion. but i didn't buy it. we'd be fine, i was sure of it. She wasn't so sure.

"that's the thing about this mountain." he continued. 'If your car has a weakness, this mountain will find it."
_________

I live at a house called Rosewood Manor. A place where ten people choose to live under the same roof and share each other's lives in order to, somehow, know God better. A lot of people think it's crazy. I partly agree. I think when conceptualized, the forefathers of this place perhaps had a much different picture than what Rosewood has actually been.

When i moved in, I thought my life was perfect. I had no stress, i was in a good relationship, good friendships. Rosewood was just icing on the cake. To be able to live in a big beautiful 100 year old mansion. to be able to have large yard for my pup, build fires in the winter, have bbq's out back. everything seemed like it was going to be great. sure, I knew that there'd be some rough spots, but the pay off at the top would be worth it.

shortly after i moved in i was in I was in a place where i really wanted to know God better. i wanted him to show me what was standing in my way, what I was putting in front of him. I thought the answer might be simple, maybe i need to give up certain entertainment or be more reserved on some lifestyle choices. but what happened to me, as what I notice from many residents that have lived at rosewood is that God is faithful, and yes, he answers prayers. And so when we come to him and ask him to show us our true selves in his eyes, he responds. Shorltly after praying this prayer, God responded and stripped from me the very thing i didn't want him to, my relationship with a women that i was so focused on marrying, and he continues to do so.

We have talked a lot about the true meaning of rosewood and what we all plan on learning from living here. what I've learned is, if we really want to take the risk and drive to the top of this mountain, and know God more intimately. . . , that's the thing about God, if we have a weakness, He will find it.

This Place is a Prison - Embracing captivity.

This Place is a Prison - Embracing captivity.

A few years ago I worked at a large rock club in town. It was the sort of job that if I were 15 and knew when I was 23 I would be working at a rock club I probably wouldn't have believed it. But perhaps half way through the year that I worked there I started growing bitter towards the experience. I know now that I was quite ideal and naive at the time. I've come to learn a few things about the music/bar business that I would perhaps fair better now but at the time I felt quite empty about the situation. Especially the cocain that was so ever present. After one really bad week I confided in my roommate at the time about a particualr situation which left me very disappointed and very lost. I told him that I felt like I was doing a prison sentence and told him I just wanted my "break." He listened to me, but as he often does, didn't act as sympathetic as I would have hoped. I felt partly that he didn't really listen or care. However maybe a couple months later he called me up to his room to listen to a song he had wrote. The original version was changed slightly to fit within another project, but the general spirit is the same . . . the inspiration he took from some of my feelings. . . it goes like this:

~
This place is a prision
these people aren't your friends
inhaling thrills through $20 bills
and the tumblers are drained and then flooded again and again

there's guards at the on ramps
armed to the teeth
and you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound
but you are not permitted to leave

I know there's a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen
in my living room late last night it was almost too bright to see
i know it's not a party if it happens every night
pretending there's glamour and candleabre when you drinking by candle light
~

I realize now that part of this song is sort of eluding to a riduclous notion that there are not actually guards preventing me from going anywhere, but part of the captivity that I felt was in my head.

I've been thinking about this notion of captivity the past couple days. I listened to one of richard Dahlstroms sermons on my iPod yesterday. It was about Ester and at one point Richard mentioned being captive and embracing captivity. This started me thinking about the times I've felt captive, like as described above.

Then I start to realize how much captivity is all through the Bible. Paul was in prison, Daniel in the Lions Den, Shadrach and all his homies got thrown into a furnace. Jonah in the whale. Moses and his crew in the desert, for 40 years!!Jesus himself . . . Then I start to realize that most of the best stuff, the best work, the best stories come from being in captivity, being held prisoner.

There's a lot more to be explored on this subject . . . it raises such notions as being prisoners to the world, but free in Christ. to take pride in our low positions. I must now read to be able to properly reference all the 'captive' moments.

but perhaps this place IS a prison, no matter what I try to do, I will always be a prisoner. But the point is what I DO with this captivity. Perhaps I should make these people my friends, love them and take pride in my low position and use it as strength.

She makes me feel like I'm 22 again.

The highway brings back memories. When I was 22 years old I got hired for my first tour. To drive Trembling Blue Stars. I ended up tour managing them. However the first task was to drive across the country by myself to pick them up in Atlanta. The landscape reminds me of distinct moments of that drive. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life, being 22, fresh out of college, never on tour, never having been further east then Nevada. To the left on I-15 between Boise and Salt Lake City, the mountains remind me of Red House Painters, the rocky mountains - John Denver, Kansas - John Vanderslice, Witchita - Grandaddy. There were moments of great despair and moments of great triumph on that trip.

Now I am 27 and seen these roads a few times here and there, from different vehicles, but they still haven't lost their charm. The mountains haven't failed to remind me to be in awe of God. They've always given me pause and made me think. Despite the often busy-ness of the road, there is a lot of time to listen. I've spent the last year plus playing music, DJing for people, but not really listening. Hearing singles and hits, but not whole records. It's a general impatience of needing a quick fix to keep the party going, needing a quick answer. But albums on the other hand ebb and flow and sometimes take a while to get to the hook . . .some of the best albums aren't full of hits, but of great songs that when put together create a story and a context.

You can't rush the road either. If there are a certain amount of miles between cities, there's not much you can do to make it go any faster. 60 miles takes an hour. you can try to drive faster, but that is just scary and gives propensity for tickets. so five miles over the speed limit is about all that you can get away with. So you have to be patient and just make due, Use the time too look, too listen to reflect.

If God was a musician he would make epic albums, perhaps not with hits but epic songs that may not make any sense when listened to as a single, but when put together makes on incredible piece of work.

All the while we think we're getting closer to our destination, He keeps moving that city further and further away, and then we realize that there is no actual destination, just the mountains right in front of us to give us pause.

Clean Jeans, rolled t-shirts.

Currently driving over the mountains. the road is bare, the trees are powdered. I'm finally over my anxiety of leaving for tour. The tax man got me good this year, which leads to a general feeling of despair, especially when I'm taking ten days off to drive to austin. But I'm with good people. I have my ipod loaded with new music, Neko Case, Jenny Lewis, a bunch of new things I haven't even listened to yet as well as some old road standards, Willie Nelson, John Denver, Richard Buckner, Nick Drake.

Aside from the anxiety of money woes, I'm not sure about my reason for going to Austin. Since my (almost) departure from the music industry, do i really want to put ona smile, shake a bunch of hands, run around and try to meet all the people I'm "supposed" to know?

One year ago I made this trip. ON the plane I wrote in my journal about the desire for real connections with people. At the time I had just made the decision to scale back my music involvement in order to make more room for real connection. One late night at the hotel with USE I told them about my decision, which they supported, however it didn't affect them a whole lot, i was still staying involved with them, in part because the needed me, in part because I need them to 'keep my feet wet' so to speak.

Noah and Jason are in the fornt seat, rocking out to Superdrag, while I am in the seat behind them, headphones on, letting Neko Case take us around every snow lined corner.

Last weekend I went to an artist retreat for Christians that are artists. It started a conversation and what will hopefully be the start of a supportive community. Charlie Peacock spoke, as did his wife Andi Ashworth. I bought their books, but only after having a conversation with Charlie during lunch. Here is a guy who has done exactly what I have desired to do. He and Andi started Art House in Nashville as a way to build community and encourage artists (musicians) to build a solid foundation in Christ that they can take with them through their artistic journey. During this conversation Charlie admitted to me that if he were to do it all over again, he would be more sensitive to the apparent needs. He spoke of how a lot of musicians wanted to talk to him to find out how he managed to make Switchfoot as big as they are, or how do they get on a good label, or how to they get a booking agent. he said that in the early days he was rigid in his approach by simply telling them they were asking the wrong question. he didn't explain exactly how he would do it differently, but just that he would somehow find a way to speak to those needs, or at least be more sensitive to them before moving on to the "right questions." This conversation resonated with me in a powerful way. here I was in a position to meet needs, and a need, as he said, is one of the most unmet need in the music industry. Yet I walked away out of frustration that my relationships were simply based on my ability to meet that "worldly" need. I wanted (and want) to meet spiritual needs. Somewhere there is probably a balance, a way to somehow meet both . . . but I'm not sure what that means or how that's done. . .

Claudine

Last week I turned 27. Although there's probably a lot to write about turning 27, that's not the point of this particular post, but yet turning 27 just led to a recent musical discovery that I am quite pleased with. In the coarse of turning 27 I had a party. During this party we played some old swanky Peter Sellers movies such as What's New Pussycat as well as The Pink Panther and and of course " The Party ." Well on Sunday I actually really watched The Party and during a scene was mesmorized by this French singer/actress in the film. Of course using the trusty ole interweb, I found this darling to be Claudine Longet. Further research led me to her fascinating story .

Well after reading, hearing and seeing I had to find some material, in particular the one song she plays in The Party. I went straight to Bop Street, aka my favorite store perhaps in the whole wide world because you can find just about anything on vinyl, and found her first four records and bought all four. I am in complete awe. I sat all day at home, as Claudine took me and Cash into another world, the sweet french accent she has makes any song she sings just about the cutest thing ever. And apparently because of all the controversy, she's not all that easy to find in record stores, but I am now on a mission to own every single album. I couldn't find the song she sang in the movie, written by Henry Mancini, apparently it is only on the soundtrack to the movie and I'm pretty sure only on the CD version. I will find that song however, entitled Nothing to Lose. Or if anyone ever sees a vinyl version of this song, by all means, buy it for me.