on a dime
It's been two months of solid touring and I have seen over 20,000 miles, four countries, two continents, and the faces of tens and tens of adoring fans. I have packed, unpacked, repacked and then packed again, every day for 62 days. I have witnessed temperatures rise to over 100 degrees and I have seen it dip to 10 below zero. I have made money and I have spent money. I have seen my social stock value rise to god like status one night and then fall to social leper the next night. I have had one hell of a trip.
And now it's over.
For all the dramatics, I have come back to the place where it all started. I believe I have completed the task that I set out to achieve but I will not know for sure until the first few hazy days of the brand new year clear away and everything can settle down for me to sort out. I'm not sure if I made any money or not in the past two months. I'm not sure if I got enough of my show recorded for a new CD or not. I am not sure if I have comfortably secured the up coming year's work or not. More pressing, I am not sure what the extent of damage I have done to my health is. I am still on touring mode, so my sleep pattern hasn't settled in, which means I have no idea what is really wrong with me until I can rule out certain obvious and quick-fix variables. I know that a big part of the damage to my body has been my diet, so I need to get that back on track and see how far I have slipped down that slide. I am hoping that most of the damage falls on the quick-fix side and something that a few visits to the gym and a few carrots can repair. The worst thing I can hear is that my legs and tummy will always look this way and that there is no amount of diet and exercise that can repair them.
The hardest part of ending a tour is how to balance the need to repair your road damaged body and the need to return to responsibilities around the home. Your body isn't the only thing that has been neglected and jogging isn't going to repair these problems. You know you need some time to adjust before you can get back out there, but there are things that just have to be done and they don't care if you're rested or not. Chickens are everywhere and they are cold and hungry. Horses are bored and hungry. Cats and dogs... they don't care and they are always hungry. The most pressing need is warmth for the house and the firewood supply has dipped down to dangerous levels. This is an issue that must be addressed pronto. There is no repairing of the damaged body if the body is freezing its ass off.
It helps to know that the sun is going to come out today and make that transition an easy one. Had it snowed or rained or been really windy, I think that I would have dreaded waking up and just gone back to bed and waited for June. But the sun was out and it made the ponderosa look warm and inviting and I actually spent the first ten minutes of my morning looking over towards the fence in front of the house and thinking that I need to replace it. A rare thought from someone that still hasn't unpacked his suitcase or counted his pennies. To think of manual labor at a moment like this is rather odd, especially since I am not sure that I possess any eye-hand coordination at the moment and would probably hurt myself trying to make it work.
The new year has brought with it a white canvas on which to create a new vision of the future. It's not a new canvas, just an old one that has been painted over. You still have to work with what was done last year, but at least you can start your work on an even tone. For me the new year means writing like a demon, putting out a CD, settling into a solid tour that doesn't run me into the ground, moving to a new perch and making more time for friends that I have neglected for too long. These are not my resolutions for the new year, but actually post-traumatic stress decisions that I thought about before the traumatic stress was post. It's pretty common for people who have survived a rough period to make changes in their life in the very moment the rough period ends. They concentrate harder on the things they feel are important to them as that all they thought about during their trauma. It got them through and it gave them the will to live. To very strong and powerful gifts.
If I had to make any resolutions for this new canvas of mine it would be this: More yellow.
And now it's over.
For all the dramatics, I have come back to the place where it all started. I believe I have completed the task that I set out to achieve but I will not know for sure until the first few hazy days of the brand new year clear away and everything can settle down for me to sort out. I'm not sure if I made any money or not in the past two months. I'm not sure if I got enough of my show recorded for a new CD or not. I am not sure if I have comfortably secured the up coming year's work or not. More pressing, I am not sure what the extent of damage I have done to my health is. I am still on touring mode, so my sleep pattern hasn't settled in, which means I have no idea what is really wrong with me until I can rule out certain obvious and quick-fix variables. I know that a big part of the damage to my body has been my diet, so I need to get that back on track and see how far I have slipped down that slide. I am hoping that most of the damage falls on the quick-fix side and something that a few visits to the gym and a few carrots can repair. The worst thing I can hear is that my legs and tummy will always look this way and that there is no amount of diet and exercise that can repair them.
The hardest part of ending a tour is how to balance the need to repair your road damaged body and the need to return to responsibilities around the home. Your body isn't the only thing that has been neglected and jogging isn't going to repair these problems. You know you need some time to adjust before you can get back out there, but there are things that just have to be done and they don't care if you're rested or not. Chickens are everywhere and they are cold and hungry. Horses are bored and hungry. Cats and dogs... they don't care and they are always hungry. The most pressing need is warmth for the house and the firewood supply has dipped down to dangerous levels. This is an issue that must be addressed pronto. There is no repairing of the damaged body if the body is freezing its ass off.
It helps to know that the sun is going to come out today and make that transition an easy one. Had it snowed or rained or been really windy, I think that I would have dreaded waking up and just gone back to bed and waited for June. But the sun was out and it made the ponderosa look warm and inviting and I actually spent the first ten minutes of my morning looking over towards the fence in front of the house and thinking that I need to replace it. A rare thought from someone that still hasn't unpacked his suitcase or counted his pennies. To think of manual labor at a moment like this is rather odd, especially since I am not sure that I possess any eye-hand coordination at the moment and would probably hurt myself trying to make it work.
The new year has brought with it a white canvas on which to create a new vision of the future. It's not a new canvas, just an old one that has been painted over. You still have to work with what was done last year, but at least you can start your work on an even tone. For me the new year means writing like a demon, putting out a CD, settling into a solid tour that doesn't run me into the ground, moving to a new perch and making more time for friends that I have neglected for too long. These are not my resolutions for the new year, but actually post-traumatic stress decisions that I thought about before the traumatic stress was post. It's pretty common for people who have survived a rough period to make changes in their life in the very moment the rough period ends. They concentrate harder on the things they feel are important to them as that all they thought about during their trauma. It got them through and it gave them the will to live. To very strong and powerful gifts.
If I had to make any resolutions for this new canvas of mine it would be this: More yellow.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 11:54 AM
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