A Troubadour

So I have always been somewhat of a troubadour in life. The past few years I've been trying to devote more of my time to writing poetry and running my own poetry slam.
I also have a heart to serve the church and be a disciple of Jesus. Can I serve the church as an artist and keep my place in society as a troubadour? Can these two things coexist?

To try to answer these questions I turn to scripture. We read in Ephesians 4:11-13 of how spiritual gifts are given to individuals to serve the body of Christ. I think this mindset can be applied to artists. Art can both illustrate our faith in Christ or be used as an evangelistic tool to bring others to salvation. So as I look for my place in life, I've taken several moves to set this belief into motion. There is a writers group at church called Psalms 45:1. One of the goals of this group is to serve the church with what God has given them, the gift of the written word. I have contributed to the devotionals they have produced for advent and lent. In this way I have been able to take my "spiritual gift" and serve the body. I also think that God would not want me to give up my place in society as a poet. I still continue to run a poetry slam. And that is where I think artists can have the most impact is out in society. We are not called to preach to people. Instead be ourselves and show people who we are and who God has made us to be. I think the rest of society will see that and embrace it or reject it, and that is ok. So to all you artists out there who are Christians, get out there and do your thing. Go show your stuff in a gallery, become a member of a rock band, try to get your photos published in a fancy magazine. Just do your thing and God will use it.

In closing I wanted to share a poem of mine. I hope you enjoy.

Journal Entry - New Years Eve Paris 96'

I now still struggling in my own convictions.
As I travel on this train
As I read up on Calvinism
Contemplating free will
Contemplating predestination
Contemplating wine and woman
Because we are two brotherly boys invading the city
We came from Germany seeking romance!
Yes Romance!
Paris's oldest form of religion
A religion where a man can behold the smell of a woman's skin.
A religion where a man can worship a woman's body with his own
What would our boy John Calvin think of that!
Yet God still has proof of his will
Shall it be mine?
These are the decisions

This afternoon we scout out the evening
Two young men coveting freedom
Two young men forgetting there problems only to make new ones
As we step into the cigar store and haggle with an Indian
We search for a smoke
We search for our temperament
We explore the city to explore ourselves
So experimentation leads to revelation
Never being, sin to suffocation
Most people wonder threw snowy streets
Most people peek into windows of aspirations
Never discovering new paraphernalia
For me I savor fine smokes
I savor dunhill and cohiba
I savor a French girl wanting me to dance
As we are in the evening now
As we are in the jazz club
Do we want to venture and risk?
The natives are restless
They want us to drink there gin and smoke there tonic
They want us to test fate and find out how free we really are
Free to be ambitious
Free to make mistakes

I make my way to the dance floor
I stand close to the soloing sacks player
I encourage him "reach man! reach and make it scream!"
Now bowing to my French girl
Enticing her into an apex of musical bliss
Engaging her engaging me.
Wondering how "happy" the New Year will be
"I have chosen you" she whispers in my ear.
"You to be my man of the year"
But how did she choose?
Did she allow for destiny?
Did she allow for me?
To be asking these stupid questions in my head

I choose to be bold
I choose to shed fear
I choose to make decisions
To find that we are not predestined to boundaries
But free enough to discover our own destruction
Knowing that after those things are found
We will walk the strait and narrow.
This is why we came to this city called Paris!
This is why we explore!
This is the reason we cross oceans and climb mountains
This is the reason we set sail into outer space
To the moon and beyond
Not to find out what's out there
But to find out what's in ourselves
And for those who will never venture out of there shell
We will never know who they are and neither will they

I turn and kiss my French girl
Bringing her lips to mine
As I cradle her in my arms
I taste her Champagne
We go out into the streets
Full of fireworks and wine bottles
Full of families gathered together
Laughing, Crying
Happy New Year

I am what I am

I am a writer.

Okay, I was just trying that on for size. I feel so pretentious when I say that out loud, so I usually say something more tame like "I like to write" or "My undergrad is in English." And I think that other people think it is pretentious as well. The other night, as I was talking to some people in my neighborhood, they asked me what I wanted to do with my graduate degree (Slavic and East European studies/starting the program in September). I contemplated saying the same well-rehearsed, acceptable thing I always say, which is "I will probably work with an NGO that addresses women's issues in the Balkans." Instead I took a risk. I did a little experiment. With a little laugh, I said, "What I really want to do is spend my time in grad school learning the language and then move to the Balkans and write." They looked at me and said, "That sounds like an ideal life, doesn't it." I'm sure I sensed a bit of sarcasm in their voice, but it could have just been me being super sensitive. Either way, I immediately "qualified" myself and my statement by saying that I had no delusions and knew that that would never happened... that what I'd probably do for a real job was work with an NGO that addresses...

But I think I'd like to get used to calling myself what I am.

In the beginning

The first blog entry for Creativity Encouraged. What an honor. What a priviledge. No wait, what on earth do I say? I could say absolutely anything. This blog entry will go down in history as THE first Creativity Encouraged blog entry FOREVER. Someday people will come to the site and think, "I wonder what the very first blog entry of this site says." Or maybe generations down the road someone will bring their grandchildren to the site and say, "This is the first blog entry for the site that changed the face of our nation." Ok. Ok. Maybe I'm over exaggerating... but only by a little.

Where to begin, where to begin. I could pose some really thought provoking and incredibly inquisitive question. I could talk about the importance of relationships and accountability in our lives or maybe I could just tell you about the time i fell off a ride at a county fair. What about how to encourage in our God given abilities or the importance of stopping to smell the roses.

I guess someone has to write the first blog and I am going to rise to the challenge. I am going to post something so brilliant that scholars will marvel at it's complexity, artists will use as inspiration for paintings, writers for poems, and chefs for culinary genius. That's right. It all begins right here and right now with this post. So here goes...

You are a child of God.