There are people in this world that cross your path for only a few brief moments but touch you deeply. Then there are those whom you are blessed to have worked with, develop a bond of friendship and they touch your heart forever. You were meant to meet. You were meant to learn something from them or possibly teach them something. Everyone that crosses your path – it’s for a reason even if at the time, you’re unsure why. But they touch you in a way that simply cannot be ignored.
In our business, once the tour is over, the “tour family” is broken apart. After months and sometimes years of living together and working together – suddenly, we go our separate ways. Off to the next gig we go but the friendship and the connection always remain. And you know the world is a better place simply because they’re globe trotting this earth, just being who they are. It seems as if forever passes before our paths cross again but when they do – it’s as if no time has passed at all. We reminisce over the continents we explored and discovered together. We remember the crazy fans begging to do absolutely ANYTHING to meet the band we both worked for. Laughing together and bitching about the tour. Paths cross to simply reveal that time sometimes stands still, as if we saw each other only yesterday.
Today, I learned of an artist, for whom I once worked, and his assistant, who were in a plane crash. Tragically, one didn’t survive. Horrifically, one was badly injured. I can’t stop thinking about either of them. My heart goes out to Chris. My prayers for a speedy recovery go to Travis. My thoughts and prayers go out to their families.
Travis is an amazing man who has always been kind to me, loving towards his family & friends.
Little Chris is a sweetheart of a man who was always there for everyone & loved by all. He will sadly be missed.
Have faith. Have strength. Paths will cross again.
My home is the world. A home by land, by air and by sea. But it doesn’t mean it’s where my heart is….all of the time. Sometimes your heart can be found in your work. Especially, when you’ve had a good day and feel as though you’ve accomplished something or recognized your worth. And sometimes you can only see the value of your efforts simply because it’s payday.
When you’re forever creating “home” out of a smelly locker room, at yet another venue god only knows. Where I’ll be found scavenger hunting at 5:30 in the morning, at show load in, snooping around the venue looking for lamps & comfy chairs. I light some candles and pray to make it thru another 20-hour day. Avoiding fluorescent light so the age in my face and the dark circles under my eyes aren’t forever more accentuated. Then, I create a relaxing vibe in another hotel room. A room I’ll spend less hours in than at the venue. Then, I can be spied pimping my coffin – oops I meant my bunk on the bus - to make that tiny little prison cell on wheels feel more like a home. Acquiring homey type crap from late night truck stops or Wal-Mart runs at 3am when your bus mates want to power shop just for the hell of it.
Suddenly, the line blurs. Where is home and will I ever get there?
Shit, now I’m melancholy; wanting & longing for something I want right now. When you start reflecting on the past to see where you left your heart, you find yourself wishing to be home – or to finally find a place to call home.