It’s hard to believe that my first album came out in 1998, almost seventeen years ago. I’m not even sure I can take that in. All of those songs, all of those shows, all of the time spent writing, recording, trying to get it all just right…
All of the miles traveled, the inhuman wake up calls, the jokes and the laughs, the sights seen, the wondering if I would ever see a girl again (as surrounded by male musicians as I have been), the utter tedium of the road, the utter adventure of it, too, the broken strings, the broken hearts, the tears of joy and sadness and relief and exasperation, the leaving it all on the stage, the sweat, blood, and insecurity of it all.
What a gift. What an honor. What a triumph and a heartache.
It’s not an easy thing to get up and propel yourself to make art every day. We’re supposed to make it look easy, we creative types. We’re supposed to make it look like anyone could do it, and truth be told, most people probably could given the right circumstances and inspiration.
Which begs the question, what is it to be inspired? What makes someone sit down at the piano or hold their guitar and feel like they have something in them worth saying? I guess artists are a self-centered bunch. We always feel like we have something worthwhile to say. It’s our job, really. To hold up things to the world, to show, to shed light, to share, to join, to induce feeling, and then relieve it somehow. To get to the very essence of what it is to be human.
I’m happy to still have something to say, and to still have the job, no matter what form it takes in my life.
I guess you could say I’m just so proud to be here (thanks Miss Minnie).
“Down To Believing” means a whole lot to me. Thank you for letting me share it with you. Thank you for still letting me share at all.