All is lost. ¬†Liana told me that she is giving up music. ¬†Turns out that the hard work of making a career of the music biz wasn’t for her. ¬†But she is in Hollywood and has dreams so big that they don’t fit in this universe, so I forgive her.
I, on the other hand, have manageable dreams. ¬†The kind that I can taste, if only I was willing to put in the work to reach them.
But I know that my dreams of rock stardom will not be satisfying. ¬†Even if I became the most famous musician in Minneapolis history, I would still go home to my 4 cats and my lovely girlfriend and lead an utterly amazing and downright normal life off the stage.
Life is grand. ¬†But it can’t keep up with those fleeting moments of triumph on the stage.
The greatest moment of my life was hitting a jump shot at the first-half buzzer in a varsity high school basketball game against Stillman Valley. ¬†I lost control of my emotions and jumped so high in the air that I might as well have hit my head on the gym ceiling. ¬†It wasn’t a big shot in the grand scheme of things, but I was in the midst of the greatest game of my career. ¬†The crowd was pumping along with the cells in my body, which for reason unknown to me, had conspired to give me a temporary shooting hand that the comes around once in a lifetime.
Sometimes being on stage is something like that. ¬†But it doesn’t quite make it there. ¬†At best, it is a tamed-down version of that jump shot.
I can relate to drug addicts who are continually seeking the next fix. ¬†I don’t do drugs – never have – but I do seek out that next fix. ¬†I call it art sometimes. ¬†And sometimes I call it performance. ¬†It is a mix of the two. ¬†I am in search of the perfect mix of performance, art, energy, and crowd. ¬†I am on constant watch for it all coming together. ¬†For all my cells to decide to do something special for a brief moment in time. ¬†To push me to that promised land once again.