This is a hard one. We artist types are so often assumed to be on some magical trajectory to Nirvana, free of self-doubt, and the other usual self-immolatory behavior of which we humans are all too capable. Of course, nothing could be farther from the truth, and every night on stage is an exercise in getting out of one’s own way. I am unsuccessful more often than not in my attempts to put down the detritus long enough to shine a little, and maybe bring a smile to someone who needed it, to simply be utterly present.

I’ve never been much of a formal student. I well and truly sucked in college. But give me something directly relevant to my experience of the world and I leave no stone unturned in pursuit of understanding. They don’t bestow degrees for that sort of thing, alas, alas…

That brings me to this last week, having seen some musicians that are living it full time, rather than trying to stuff a musical career into the same life as owning a business, and being a father.  It’s hard to own up to the fact that time after time I have made choices-essentially talked myself out of the virtuosity I know lies within. What a shock….what a revelation.

Disillusionment. I rather like that word. It has a negative connotation, but it shouldn’t. It means “letting go of one’s illusions” which I think is a good thing. So as I peek out from behind the curtain, approaching half a century on this planet, I begin to see clearly. I think it’s time to face this ghost.