"For the deal I made, the price was strong
I traded you for this song
We woke each morning with hearts filled
Bluebird of love on the windowsill
Now the heart's unsteady, and the night is still
All I've got's this melody, and time to kill"
- Somewhere North of Nashville -
Bruce Springsteen
There's a cold wind blowing up from the South and a bank of thick cloud is darkening the horizon. The temperature has dropped significantly in the last few hours and for some mysterious reason I hope that we might get a speck of snow. Something to show for the cold. It doesn't happen often and Winter is short here in South Africa. I've got my truck packed full of tools and a lunchbox for tomorrow's work on the piece of land I'm renting for my herd of cows. The work never stops. Fencing, water troughs, clearing of unwanted vegetation and making of firebreaks. All in a days work. Things are still quiet at my day job. I have at least three standby shifts a week and mostly I don't get called out. I use those days and my days off to get the work done on the farm. It's hard physical work but out there under the endless blue sky I am sometimes able to put my mind at ease for a while and not think of the things eating at my soul. I'm renting this land from life long friends and I'm living some of the most beautiful days of my life. Munnik and Marthinus have been together for as long as I've been alive and we are more family than friends. Munnik dedicates his life to the well-being of animals and serves as the president of the South African Animal Cancer Association. He organises events and does interviews to raise awareness for the cause. He also cooks dinner for us most days and spends most of his time making a difference to people and animals in need. Son of a fertilizer salesman, he grew up all over rural South Africa and spent a huge chunk of his childhood in Malawi. He tells me stories all the time. Marthinus is a renowned tailor and painter. He grew up not far from where I grew up and we share a deep connection in mutual geography. He is a restless soul with a relentless thirst for knowledge, creativity and exploration. He builds, weaves beautiful garments, makes dresses and suits for the rich and famous and he creates beautiful paintings.
I cherish our moments together, often around the old coal stove, surrounded by beautiful art, all with a story told with the passion and love only an artist can bring to the table. We talk late into the night, the three of us, and nothing is off limits. Songwriting, Painting, Politics, Philosophy. I drink it all in and I try to remember the lessons I'm learning from two people who've seen the best and worst that life can throw at you. When I stumble to my room after several glasses of wine after a long day of work I thank my lucky stars for friends like them.
I played a Bob Dylan Tribute a few weeks ago and it was a blast. I felt fortunate to be part of it and to sing my favourite Bob Dylan songs to an engaging audience. I've got nothing coming up in the near future and it seems that a lot of musicians are still struggling to get back in the saddle. Mostly because of the impact that the last year of lockdowns and restrictions had on venues, festivals and studios. What happened is not a setback, it's a catastrophe. The arts and entertainment world is bleeding. We're losing thousands of venues, restaurants and entertainment companies. I doesn't look like it's going to improve anytime soon, especially with the way our government is dragging it's feet through a maze of bureaucracy, corruption and logistical challenges. It might be quite a while before we can have and attend large events that can bring in some money. All I can suggest is that you keep buying tickets or donate what you can to your favourite artists whenever they do a livestream or perform at open venues. Just support in any way possible. Every little bit helps.
Writing songs and telling stories is a deep love of mine but it's also essential to my emotional well-being. I write because I have to. I try to make sense of things, capture stories and share them with people. It's easy to say that I should do this for myself regardless of who I reach with it but I don't believe that art is made only to remain hidden away behind some cover or in a beaten up notebook. I often get asked why I keep going. It's a legitimate question. I mean, if you're reading this and you got this far you are one of a very few individuals that actually care about my work. I wonder about that sometimes. Am I even good enough to operate in this realm? Does what I have to say even matter? Do I make anyone feel anything with my songs? I could stop today and no one would even notice that I'm gone. These voices that visit me in my darkest hour telling me to quit are breathing down my neck again. I haven't written a song in months. It's not for a lack of trying or living or even hard work. I'm just empty, dried up inside.
I don't actually know what to do or say. Maybe it's gone forever or maybe it's on it's way back, waiting in the wings. Maybe my tears will form a shape on another blank page. A shape that I can recognize and coax into another song that no one will care about or listen to.
It's two in the morning and there is another day waiting out there. There's nothing I can do but say thank you. If you're still listening and reading my letter I appreciate it. If you still care about the songs and making a plan to come and see me play I'm grateful. I promise to stay honest and to keep working on perfecting my craft. For now I'll wake up each morning, count my many blessings and look for inspiration. I'll try and be the change I want to see and hopefully learn to be better. Im not a praying man but tonight I'm saying one anyways. I feel like we all need a little help, a little peace and a little tolerance. I need some answers too but I'm not holding my breath.
JB