By definition, it is a close and personal relationship with another. I have to pause for a moment and truly think about what "another" means. Is this another person? Is this another place? Is this just another "thing"?
I have had relationships with many "anothers". As I am writing, I think about my pet fish, Fitzgerald. I felt very close to the fish. But I would stop short of saying it was intimate. And then I pause again to reflect. I loved Fitzgerald. I cried when he died. But he was just a fish.
I have loved my lifetime of pets. "Cats". At one time I had six of them. And I do not claim to be a cat person. They just somehow ended up in my life. I loved them.
I am a dog person! I truly love dogs. I remember the family dog when I was growing up. His name was Pepper. On this particular day, I picked him up and just held him. I have to say that I still can remember the love I felt at that moment. But it was not intimate love. Even today, I am mom to my three dogs. Somehow they all ended up here with me. I should say that two were planned and one was rescued from the certain death of the street. But alas, this is not intimacy to me. It would border on being weird if I told anyone that I felt intimate about my dogs.
Now I will go to where intimacy began. It all started in junior high school. I really wanted to play the saxophone for the school band. On the day of tryouts, I still see the band teacher having to quickly decide out of the 200 students which ones were suited for the 50 positions. When it was my turn, she asked me to hold my hand up. When I did, she measured it and said "too small". You can't play in the band. "Goodbye".
I was shattered! I was rejected! I was a loser!
But just remember how resilient we were back in those days. Someone said let's try out for the chorus. I did and I found out I was an alto. And, they let me join.
I enjoyed singing.
Now I am in high school and there is a friend of mine that played the guitar. I thought that was really neat. She asked me to come over to her house . When I saw her strum the guitar, I was really impressed. And then she started to sing. It didn't take too long for us to be comfortable enough around each other to sing together. We ended up singing for some classes in school and even had a gig at Shakey's Pizza Parlor. But I found out I had a little jealous streak in me. She got all the attention because she played the guitar. I asked her to teach me to play. She taught me exactly one and a half chords. I was hooked! I wanted to play guitar. It turns out my dad had to take me to the blue chip stamp store to get my own guitar. One and a half chords wasn't much to work with so we also bought a Mel Bay book of guitar chords. My mission was to teach myself how to play guitar. And I did it! I found I also enjoyed writing poetry. I started to put my poetry to the guitar chords that I was strumming and found out I was a songwriter.
My journey to intimacy had been firmly cast.
Through the years, I have written music, played the guitar, played in the "band" and sung in a few local talent shows. It was my band years that I learned the most. Because musicians are flaky, I found I had to teach myself to play the bass guitar and even the keyboards to fill in when those silly musicians failed to show up for a gig. Back in the eighties, there was a new thing happening in music. It was called "Midi". You could program musical parts and not have to play them at the same time. You played with them. You had to use a keyboard to program them. It was a very exciting concept. We started using it so that we didin't have to worry about the musicians showing up. Now the band became a duo. We sounded like a full band. It was fun! It was exciting! It was hard work!. The years of playing music at night and working a full-time job during the day had taken its toll on me. I was tired. I was tired of playing my music and only having people appreciate it when they were tanked, drunk, poop faced, and almost out of it. The band called it quits and music was over.
I settled back into life. Go to work, come home, go to bed. The next day, get up and do it again. Sound familiar? The great American way. My music was silent. And the years turned into a decade. And then almost another decade would pass.
Two years ago my friend asked me to go to church with her. I said yes. I walked into the church. It was not like I had never been in a church before. I had. But something about this church caught me. Held me. Would not let go of me. Each week I went back not because I had to. It was because I wanted to. Then one Sunday, a man got up to talk about why he enjoyed coming to this church. But instead of talking, he sang . He had no music. It was just his voice. I was captured by the sincerity of that moment. And it was that very moment that I felt music again. Music! Music! Sweet music! I could hear music again. I wanted to write music again. I wanted to write about what just happened. I went home and picked up my guitar. I turned on the keyboard. I wrote a song for the first time in almost twenty years.
I was inspired by God and music has come back to me. And my life has been profoundly changed. I am a Christian Singer and Songwriter. I believe that I have been led down this path by God. God knew where I was supposed to be. And when I got there, He would not let me go.
I am intimate with God! And I am truly humbled by it.
I am very grateful for this time in my life and want to share my music with anyone that wants to listen to it.
Check out my website: http://charlottamartin.com/
Charlotte A. Martin