It has been…

both a beautiful and intense weekend of music with performances on Friday night, Saturday afternoon, and a jam/audition on Saturday evening following Vespers. So much music. So many places to play. Sunday is a tired but happy afternoon.

I cannot remember a time in my life without music, listening to it, playing it, and occasionally performing it. I played for my classmates in grade school. I played for myself in high school. I played for the faithful in church from time to time and in my 40’s and now early 50’s the lid has popped off and every bit of music that didn’t get played in earlier days has started to overflow the jar.

It’s not about being a rock star or anything like that at all. It’s not even that I’m the most adept musician around. Music just flows. Music is interwoven with my life. Music just somehow finds a way in, through, and around me. In my life I’ve played violin, piano, mandolin, guitar, ukelele, and bass and I’m willing to try any instrument at least once. They’re all good and the experience of encountering them never ceases to amaze me.

And now, in my middle years, when the anxieties and self consciousness of childhood and adolescence are long gone there is no pressure to do anything but open my mouth and sing or stand and play. Perhaps others are terrified of that but all my soul says is “It’s about time, get up there and play.” I can and have for hours and I presume that I must exasperate the people I share the stage with when everything inside me says “We’ve got time, let’s do one more song.”

I guess I’m just a late bloomer with a compulsion to make up for lost time. Maybe its just about the idea that I can be me again, the little kid in front of his classmates on the piano, the teenager watching it all from afar, and now a grown man up on the stage having the time of my life.

Sing like you’re in the shower and dance like no one is watching.

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