It’s Sunday night and I’m worn out from a full weekend of artistic events and communication. The autumn breezes are stirring everybody up and I find it hard to keep focus through the frenzy of politics and personal drama reaching my ears.
It seems as though I get pulled to help everybody but myself. It was a pleasure for a couple of hours last night to sit and simply listen to amazing music by Frank Vignola & his Rhythm Machine. I should say phenomenal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a standing ovation in the middle of a first set before. After meeting and greeting everybody while valet parking, it was restful to hide by myself in the back of the theatre.
However, I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to watch such a show in the company of someone who would simply sit and appreciate it with you. Perhaps it was being offered a free ticket for a companion and despite my efforts to contact folks who would enjoy the music, there was no one to use it.
So many times I go to these events without ever thinking about trying to bring someone with me. It is work for me. I talk community business at intermission, or get pulled from looking through a gallery opening for an idea about an article that someone needs me to write to promote the next big thing. I rarely make plans with other people because I’m always thinking about work. Even just watching a show is educational for me and inspires me to the next thing to practice. I end up running away to Asheville to hide without a plan, just hoping to see a friendly face that doesn’t need something from me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to be needed and feel valuable to my community, but sometimes the push and pull of it all gets to me.
I feel like everyone I know is under strain right now with the pending election and the state of the economy. I believe the arts are necessary to help us learn and grow together. Long ago I learned to diversify my income sources. Yet the push and pull of it all reminds me that my only true investment is myself. I can only hope that one day my “sole proprietorship” becomes a “partnership” that lifts and supports us both in this crazy business of living.