Moving is living

I'm back on the road tomorrow. Last week I spent two days in NYC, then four days in Montreal followed by two days outside Boston. It was a mix of social and business, and yet another reminder of how much I enjoy playing medieval dress up in the SCA.

In the morning I drive to Cincinnati by way of the Ohio State music library in Columbus. After an evening with my oldest friend I'll be on to North Carolina for a few house concerts before making another social call in Richmond. Then I'll be spending two days at home visiting my parents before heading to Kitchener, Ontario, for more social time and SCA.

This is my slow season, and I keep myself on the road because that's where I feel most comfortably myself. I'm deeply thankful for the many friends who make it all possible, and are so very welcoming. I really enjoy hanging out, intermixed with research and rehearsal, but I'm also looking forward to my spring kicking into high gear. After I leave Kitchener I'll spend my mom's birthday with family, and then on 2/10 I dive back into the saddle as I head to Italy for three months of busking.

I can hardly wait.

Moving is living 2

"I keep myself on the road because that's where I feel most comfortably myself."

That's a telling quote that I nonchalantly tossed off in my previous post. And I escalated: the title of these two posts comes from Up in the Air:

"Make no mistake, your relationships are the heaviest components in your life. All those negotiations and arguments and secrets, the compromises. The slower we move the faster we die. Make no mistake, moving is living. Some animals were meant to carry each other to live symbiotically over a lifetime. Star-crossed lovers, monogamous swans. We are not swans. We are sharks."

It's a brutal read, the shark speech, stripped of the charisma of George Clooney's delivery, yet it sums up both my greatest triumphs and biggest regrets. But when I'm feeling down, there's nothing like looking at my upcoming travel plans to perk myself up. Before I swore off the possibility, it also acted as a defense mechanism because I would never attempt suicide while holding an unused plane ticket.

"I’ve driven across deserts driven by the irony,
That only being shackled to the road could ever I be free"

Frank Turner is another patron saint of mine, writing my life in music. And a comfort that I'm not the only one who feels this way (thanks a million velvetmae)

My suitcase is packed, I have two small trips and a big one in the next two weeks, and I'm thrilled to be moving again.