Dispatch #1: Windsor

So you play guitar. Or you work in a store, or you make shoes. Your work should be your art. It is your art whether you know it or not. Do what you love. Do what you love and let the rest take care of itself. Tonight we played in front of 2 or 3 thousand people, and it was great. The band played up. They played at that pro level that they live at. We attacked the people who don’t realize sometimes that you don’t play those kinds of gigs every night. Some nights are hard. Some nights you’re playing for folks who don’t really want to receive what you have to offer. Some nights God places you in a town or in a situation where you’re purpose isn’t clear. Maybe you’re not the key ingredient in the mix on that moment, but you better believe that if God’s got you there, it’s for a reason. At the end of the night, people tell you how much they enjoyed you, and they have no idea how much you need to hear that. How quiet it is some nights. How you doubt and worry and wonder. I love to play music. I love Buffy and Olivia much more, so if I didn’t love playing music, there’s no way I’d leave home for weeks at a time to do what I do. Tonight, as I write this, listening to Wayne Shorter, waiting on the pizza that Tom ordered (bad idea though it be), missing my love, my heart is full of the joy that people gave to me tonight. The light on Richard and Tom’s faces as they felt the love of their audience and knew that what they were doing was good, and well received. Good night.