And so it begins …
Goodbye and thank you kindly, Windy City; hello Big Apple. Please be good to me.
My move to Chicago four and a half years ago was the product of a whim. A very strong subconscious urge. An impulse. Really, a first foray into the urban culture. Fresh out of college, I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom, of possibility. I was scared, of course, but I wasn’t about to let butterflies in my stomach interfere with the excitement that permeated my entire consciousness. I was a man on a mission.
Lucky for me, it was “Mission: Accomplished,” and I made pretty good time getting the job done.
I would recommend a stint in Chicago to any emerging artist fresh off the alma mater apron strings. It’s a beautiful and vibrant city that is graciously welcoming to new talent. I will never forget the people I met and the amazing work I did. We did.
Now, though, I really feel an overwhelming sense of beginning. New York City: so flirtatious, so fickle. So finnicky. So entirely unforgiving. Yet entirely essential to many a successful artist’s career. Once again, I’m faced with an urge, an impulse stronger than I’ve ever felt, and once again I find myself relocating on a whim.
But it’s different this time, I think.
Despite my four and a half years experiencing life as a freelance musician in a big city, I have another permeating feeling that I’m about to truly begin my journey. I’ve built up a burgeoning résumé, I’ve chalked up wins and losses, and I for once feel ready to take on the Big Apple. Now my career has a chance to shape itself around the mold I imagined for it. I’m incredibly excited. I’m unimaginably terrified. I’m letting an irrationally thick leash of trust lead me to my next venture. I’ll be at the mercy of a merciless industry, brandishing a razor sharp blade of confidence that I’ll convince myself not to be afraid to use.
And I’ll be reconnecting with an amazing community of friends, one extremely important element of my definition of wealth. Really, more vital than the ever-elusive dollar. I can’t wait to reconnect with them all; I will, of course, be leaving behind an incredible group of friends in Chicago. I’ll miss them deeply.
But this move is the beginning of something huge. I want opportunities to work all over the world. This is why I don’t say anything about an ending; Chicago, I don’t at all intend to be a stranger. We’ll cross paths again.
And so it BEGINS … with two suitcases and a fragile bank account. With a great sublease in Astoria. With all the hope I can possibly imagine. With all the trepidation that my realist (sane) side instills in my brain. With all the fantastical ideas that populate my heart.
Here goes nothing …