SouthernSun salutations, musical friends & relations! Greetings from the Forgotten Coast! If you've not forgotten me, thanks a bunchles and I blaze to you mighty well-wishes and good cheer.
Alas. Rrrrrgh... Ugh. Seems I’ve fallen behind once again with the blog-posting action. Honestly, I've no idea what this will mean in the long run but it turns out that actually making it happen on the troubadour trail AND keeping up with the digital Joneses is NOT in my indie-minstrel wheelhouse. On the upside, wheeling in and out of towns and connecting with remarkable people over song to the point where I’m sleep-deprived for days but happily hungover on gratitude, inspiration, and vital nudges to keep on tunesmith trucking (and toasting deep into the night aaaaand repeat…) is apparently sponsored by a generous grant from my DNA. So, there's that.
At any rate, I've got some touring news & pics on standby, but am inspired to quickly share just a few pics here, snapped last week at the onset of one deeply touching detour I took along the troubadour trail. What a gift it was to spend a little time reuniting with sacred people, places, and things in Tallahassee, FL, where I returned in 2011, after more than two decades, to complete my BA in Writing at Florida State. It was intensely moving to stand in front of the fountain pictured here at what is the juncture of my hugest leap yet, in shifting my life back to that of a touring artist at age 45, given that it was twenty-five years ago—almost to the day—when I sat before those very spouts and knew to the core of my truthslinging soul that I must leave college behind to pursue my calling with song in NYC.
So...sniff...let's see...just to be clear, that's one...two...three pennies I decidedly did NOT toss into one super sexy fountain but instead kept tucked in my bag for those pesky turnpike tolls, and one ginormously affirming truth slung back at my (own it!) middle-aged modern-day minstreling arse. Ah, here's to the journey, indeed. Which juuuuust in case you missed it and for whatever it's worth is NOT to be confused with the end. Which is sadly still too often confused by many of us earthlings with the thing that matters most. Which no matter HOW you might try and slice that seemingly delicious but utterly unattainable pie in the sky is only ever what's going on before you or inside of you RIGHT FREAKING NOW! Which in Truth with a capital, forever-mile-high "T" is all we've EVER really GOT. I'm just (EMPHATICALLY) sayin'...
Salute and more soon and please, do follow your bliss out there (fellow earthlings who are essentially just a wee bit taller) kids!
Openroading it, and so, loving it, under the Southern Sun.
[Not pictured/highly recommended: open windows and
full-volume blare of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack]
p.s. I was at a light! Songbird's honor!!!
Heck YEAH there's a definitive article in front of the name of the one particular totally awesome university I cherish as my alma mater where THE Writing Program I attended kicked---and still kicks---The Arse of Supreme Tutelege.