Roadblogging, part 2

We left Chicago (reluctantly) at about 4 this afternoon... but I have to say that coming back when I can stay longer is a priority. Joe, Manita, lj -- Chicago is THE PLACE and you guys MUST go there with me. SOON. I can't believe I've lived in Des Moines for nearly ten years and have never been there. Pathetic, I know.

We're driving along I-88 at the moment. As soon as we find a wi-fi hotspot I'll post it to the blog. I do NOT like Illinois. Chicago, yes. Illinois, no. I should look into how much a hop from DSM to O'Hare is.

Today I met a man named Jim whose undercover job is a clerk at the White Hen convenience store on Monroe in downtown Chicago. He was a delightful and cheerful fellow and provided us with dollar coins when we mentioned needing bus fare back to the hotel. Here's his picture; I'll let you guess what he does at Marshall Field's in November and December...



We spent several hours in the Art Institute. I was happy.

I have to go back there.

Y'know what else? I was INSPIRED. I'm itching to pick up my paintbrush again as soon as I get home. I walked through room after room of phenomenally beautiful paintings and wondered what it would be like to have MY work displayed there...

Maybe I'm weird, but I also felt that way at the blues club last night -- I wondered what it would be like to be on stage there.

Someone asked me recently if I get nervous playing and singing in front of large crowds of people. No, but it's not because I think I'm so awesome and good-looking; on the contrary, I'm rather self-conscious about my physical appearance if I let myself think about it. I'm shaped like an apple with legs. It's not a put-down, it's just a fact. I have accepted this and have moved on.

But it's not about that. I just LOVE "doing" art, in whatever form I happen to be working in at the moment, whether it's paints and brushes or a keyboard and a microphone. It fulfills me down deep like nothing ever has. It's like I'm communicating with God in my own private language. What makes being on stage different than just practicing (which I also enjoy very much, but for very different reasons) is that there are hundreds of others who are sharing and maybe even enjoying God along with me because of what I'm doing. It energizes me and brings a rare moment of intense focus and clarity. When a gig is over, even if I've played until my fingers are numb, I'm so hyped-up that I can't sleep or settle down. When I've been painting for hours and hours, I'm tired, but I can't go to sleep at all. It's literally like a legal stimulant.

Okay, we're coming up on the Iowa border shortly, so I need to wrap up this post. I'll check back in later.