On the road

Down and out in Amsterdam, I've become the dharma bum par excellence. Head full of hash, tripping balls on the ferry, no firm agenda, improvising the next move 24/7. Making up the plot from moment to moment, hour by hour. How did I get here, David Byrne? Is this now my beautiful house, with such throngs of people constantly passing through it? Bought a vintage gold blazer for 35 euro trying to fit in while crashing into all the tourists staring wide-eyed at this convict of the weird and visibly removed. This isn't a lifestyle, this is a life sentence! Bouncing like a billiard ball between hostels, getting bitched at for passing out in the communal areas after hours in front of the gear, dragging 40 kilos of metal in cases down angular cobbled streets for just minutes of rehearsal or recording time... it has become rather painfully obvious that I went into all of this without very much serious planning or preparation. Where exactly does all of this lead?

"Easy come, easy go, little high, little low, any way the wind blows..."

On the other hand, I'm also becoming aware (as is my increasingly beleagured, sore, warped but also rapidly recovering body) that I'm having an unforgettable experience that has indelibly altered my vision of the world and my place in it. Something is happening while it often appears that I'm doing almost nothing at all. I've discovered new limits and rearranged my life to an almost unrecognizeable extent while striving to maintain the core essence of my musical vision. I've carted an entire portable studio halfway around the world to find freedom, and sometimes I can't but feel that I have undoubtedly achieved this. But everywhere there are limits. Is it possible to carry on this way? For how much longer? How melodramatic in a way; a political refugee for reasons that likely do not align with my own personal views on any given subject, out on a limb because it's the only place left. Or is it? Is this just another illusion? It's the universal trip this time, realizing that maybe nowhere is ideal or truly safe and it really is just about the same shit everywhere, just playing out differently with a slightly different history leading up to the present moment, forever pregnant with possibility and the promise that the endless return of tomorrow will shuffle the cards anew.