All is Quiet on New Year's Day

My mother used to say that what you do on New Year's Day predicts what you'll be doing for the rest of the year.  If that's true, then my 2012 will be marked by periods of intense activity followed by langorous stretches of willful sloth.  Hamfist rang in the New Year playing "It's The End of the World As We Know It" to a dancing throng. It may be my favorite moment onstage ever.  It was the highlight of the evening; the rest of the night was a mixed bag.  We played well, but the dancing was sporadic and the crowd's interest waxed and waned. I worked my ass off trying to keep them entertained, but I didn't mind. I like working hard when I'm doing what I love.

I love to make music, especially with my musical brothers and sisters, but it's been more challenging lately than in the past. Some of my musical relationships have been less collaborative and more contentious. It can be frustrating, even depressing, and makes me question what I'm doing.  I sometimes wonder why I put myself through the heartache, but I always go back for more and I'll keep going back until they lock me out. 

Ultimately, I play for myself; not for my collaborators, not for the audience. The music wells up and spills over. I can't stop it; I don't want to. I might as well try to hold back the tide with my bare hands. Whether I'm alone in a room playing for myself or onstage with a dozen people playing for hundreds more, the energy springs from the same source, unbidden, unstoppable. It's who I am.

I got home from the gig around 2 a.m. but didn't get to sleep until dawn; too wound up.  I drifted off for a few hours then pulled myself out of bed, headed straight for the couch and spent New Year's Day flat on my back reading and watching bad TV.  It's not the first time I've wasted a day doing absolutely nothing, but I usually feel guilty as hell about it.  This time, I had no regrets, which is completely uncharacteristic.. Yesterday was an interlude between the two years, unmooored from the past, untethered to the present, unconcerned with the future, with no agenda, no goals, no responsibilities. Maybe it's a sign that 2012 will be the year when I finally give myself a bit of a break. What would that be like? I've spent my whole life beating myself up and urging myself forward.  Is it possible to just be instead of always becoming?