I’m writing this in the green room of the Cannery Ballroom in Nashville TN, my adopted hometown. The show’s sold out, which feels good on any night, but especially in a city where I’ve experienced so much transformation.
I’ve lived in Music City for about three years, and I’m in a markedly different place than when my 2003 Toyota Corrolla first limped down Broadway. As musicians, it’s easy getting bogged down by the usual distractions - why isn’t my record selling, I wish there were more people at the shows, the list goes on - and sometimes it’s important pressing pause and simply asking “who was I then, and who am I now?”
In Seattle, I was bored, with myself and the band, ready for a change but ignoring every sign the universe threw at me. In Nashville, I’m cultivating a working relationship with my inner demons, creating work I’m proud of, and meeting the high standard I’ve set for myself. The daily minutia of being an artist can be discouraging, of course, but I’m able now to smile at the person I see in the mirror.
Thank you, Nashville, for welcoming me, providing space to grow, and giving my dormant confidence permission to take the wheel.