a lot to say, a little late

I have to say...I haven't felt the creative spark to write a blog entry lately...ok not just lately but for a long time. But here I am, trying to be prolific again!

Things with the band are going really well. We've been booking our summer tour for June and it's been going pretty smoothly so far. We're driving through the southwest to sunny California and then driving north to less sunny California and back through Colorado and then back home. And we have our first Nashville show on Tuesday at the Basement as a part of what they call "New Faces Night." And of course, we have an up an running website and new EP. It seems like with all this work we've been doing, we haven't been able to even play our music that much in our spare time. But I guess that's what tour is mainly for, right?

So that's the boring news. Or at least some shameless plugs. In other news? I've been feeling farther and farther apart from the land of Manhattan lately. Which is probably a bittersweet feeling. It's that time in a break-up where you don't actually miss your ex anymore but you want to miss them because you know how you used to feel about them and all of the sudden, you're in love with the love you had but it's distant and blurry.

I'm reading One City by Ethan Nichtern, who leads the Interdependence project and weekly meditation groups in Manhattan, some of which I've attended and highly recommend. But I digress. In the book, he talks about how a city functions like a giant organism. In New York, it's easy to see this. I sometimes picture the subway system as a giant cardiovascular system pumping people up and down, going back and forth to keep the heartbeat of the city pumping. Though there are often blocked arteries along the way, especially during weekends.
In other words, there are so many people in a city like New York that it kind of reminds me of the dragon puppets they use for the Chinese New Year. One mass of people creates a whole new monster. But in places like Nashville, or even smaller towns, it's a little more difficult to see this kind of unity. Especially when everyone is isolated and sequestered off in their own houses, cars, etc. How do you form the dragon when we're all so out of contact with each other?
I've noticed that southerners are very polite on the outside and do not hesitate to nod their head and say good morning to you as you pass them on the sidewalk, but what happens if we actually need each other here in a moment of crisis? We all head for the hills and go back to our hobbit holes. The opposite seems to occur in NYC. Although people go about their day without even acknowledging others around them in such a hectic environment, the moment something happens that disturbs the waters, weather it's a blackout, a storm, or something invigorating like an election victory, the whole city suddenly comes alive and connects like electric wiring.

So to wrap this up, do I think I could live in Nashville for the rest of my life? Maybe not, but I'm also convinced this is where I need to be right now. And not to harp on the dragon motif, but I like to think I'm part of a very small but beautiful luck dragon dancing in the streets weaving in between honking SUVs. Sometimes we get hit, but dragon's are pretty good at refueling. And if you think I'm being poetic or metaphorical, ask Dave about his morning yesterday. To all you current or former New Yorkers out there reading this, I miss your shiny scales.