Carolina on My Mind & Heart & Wow & Bam!
Friends, it thrills me to share these captioned photos as a celebration of my return to the troubadour trail, and a nod of gratitude to the sensational people of Charleston, SC, who frankly blew my mind's eye on Friday night by coming out to fill the room and breath vitality, meaning, wit, and whimsy into the first concert of my yearlong coast-to-coast touring adventure.
I've simply no words to render how grateful I am to my concert hosts Andrea Boyd and Jeffrey Cohen of Satsang Yoga Charleston for creating such a sublime venue and remarkable evening. There was a connectivity and energy to the night that is the kind you dream about experiencing (or I suppose, offering) as an artist, and as I return to the hard, tireless work of writing, rehearsing, and booking and promoting shows, I do so as one deeply inspired, humbled, and encouraged singer and songwriter.
Cheers if you have a gander at the pics, and to my hosts and new friends in Chucktown, I extend one huge and hearty, deep-fried, love-coated "Thank you---y'all freaking rock!"
Tour Launch Eve in the tunesmithery. AKA: Once upon a time I think I can...I think I can...I think I ca---damnit!!
Shit. No. Again. From the top. Can't...think...must....stop....thinking....
Ouch!! Also...hell freaking yes bring it!!!!
Eat your heart out, Popeye.
Introducing the 2016 Honda Troubadour.
Thumbs up, up, and awaaaaay we go to the next stanza of the dreampoem.
And to the Mobile station and to Starbucks and to the restroom aaaaaaaand repeat.
Aaaaaaaand we're off (with the perfectly poetical not-sunshiny backrop of sky that
we should be off with when taking to the troubadour trail at age 45).
"Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge"....??? Meh. One Sexyass Bridge. *There* we go.
Hello back at ya, (beautiful!) Charleston.
Charleston chillaxing with my noble concert hosts Andrea Boyd, Jeffrey Cohen, and their visionary guru-babe, Dove, from whom I took my be-here-now-YO! cue the entire weekend. Although, mind you, as we snap this pic those eyes are concerned purely with the like ten kazillion other things happening in said present moment.
This is officially the image I will gratefully access in my mind's eye whenever my actual eyes are a bloodshot-blur from the countless hours that must be spent on the computer machine working to book shows. Mighty thanks to my concert host Andrea Boyd for going above and beyond, and then even a bit more beyond that, in showing me how generosity is done.
Pret-ty incredible way to kick off a year of candlelight croonin', I must say... So grateful to my host Jeffrey Cohen for creating this crazywarm and sensational "listening room" vibe, and to the tremendous ladies and gents of Charleston who came out and
filled the space to the brim with their blazing good vibes and ignited what matters most, the music.
Was grateful to have a sacred solitary space from which I could still my mind, center my heart, and warm up my pipes before the concert. Yes, on the floor, and yes—doing breathing exercises I learned thirty years ago atop a homespun baby blanket with ten minutes to go before I perform a concert of songs I wrote for a room full of people I've never met is *precisely* where I want to be at this precious life moment. Thankful beyond words to all the contribution my hosts made in electing to bring my first concert back on the troubadour trail to life. Including them not knowing that the love which powered the hands of the friend who made said blanket was in part responsible for the joy and meaning that powered the shizzle out of my croons.