Hitting Home

I made a very last minute trip to my hometown for the weekend because there were a few things that had to be decided for the family business (easiest explanation of family business: products of my dad's crazy inventions) On the train there, all I could think about was everything I was going to miss by leaving the city. Now, on the train back all I can think about is how much I would have missed if I hadn't left. I enjoyed my family's company in a way that reminded me of a time in my childhood when I couldn't possibly fathom a life a stale as mine is threatening to become. For the first time in years, days seemed endless, like weeks almost. Even though New York is full of so many possibilities and inspirations, I was astounded at the creative charge I got from tapping into the people and places that make up who I am today.








I visited the lake house I grew up in, and I actually even hung out with my dad. I still can't figure out how 18 years of being raised by one of the best banjo players the world has seen, and never once did I ask him to teach me. Maybe I was too cool for bluegrass back then.




I'm returning to the craziness with a calm head, yet not calm in a complacent sense. I feel refreshed by a quick sip of my past with a new thirst for creating something, anything until the specifics find me.








-- Post From iPhone