ryan hommel

set list for our set at Kerrville Wine&Music Fest… I know my job rocks when Seth hands me a set list like this.

:)

Howdy! Seth and I are in Kerrville, TX for the Kerrville Wine & Music Festival (aka “Little Folk” as opposed to the 18 day spring fest here “Big Folk”)… It’s great to be here playing amongst some of the most gifted writers and musicians and proactive and appreciative music listeners.

Here’s a shot of me with my monocase (@monocase on Twitter) backstage before our soundcheck at Little Folk… Seth and I both rock these cases and they make our lives WAY easier on the road.

well, it’s about 11:30pm and i’m long overdue for an entry. as you can see, i’m enjoying some lounge time (yeah, that’s me in a snuggie). seth’s upstairs, sleeping. i’m down in the studio wide awake after watching a movie called “the invention of lying” which i thoroughly enjoyed. after waking up at 5:30 this morning to go do a radio show with seth, i decided to take a nap. a really long nap. from 2pm - 5:30pm. felt great. needed to sleep. i assume i’ll be in bed within a half hour anyway, so the nap really didn’t do me any harm.

i’m proud and happy to say that, in the past few weeks or moths or however long it’s been since i’ve written to the 4 or 5 of you (at most) who read my ramblings, that i’ve accomplished a lot. lots of wonderful new music, friends, experiences, places i’ve visited and connections made, in general. i’ve learned, too.

you can’t just go, go, go all the time. you need to stop. breathe. just “say no”, as seth and i like to say. i’ve said this, almost exactly to friends as advice when they were too busy to stop and take care of themselves. it’s time i listen to myself, i guess. it’s such an elementary thing, to realize and re-realize over and over that, in order to be productive, you need to at least sleep. otherwise, you keep falling over yourself, literally. i feel almost embarrassed to admit that this has been me for the past week or two. but, even more importantly, i know i can’t be afraid to make these mistakes, or afraid to admit to them. that’s why i’m writing them. because it feels good to know that i’ve officially gotten these things off my chest. it’s less about you knowing than it is about me unloading.

at least 2 weeks out of every month, i go away. i travel from town or city to town or city with one of my best friends, seth glier. i’m lucky. we get to go on epic road trips together, meet great people and play great music for them. when i’m not on the road with seth, i’m just trying to squeeze everything in, see everyone, play all types of music, visit different places… those are all worthy causes, but battles need to be chosen and hence, some must be left alone. in the past day or two, have a little more time to think, i’ve realized that in doing all these great things, i’ve somehow sacrificed part of my own sanity. that is not a battle i ever want to leave alone. in fact, it’s not something i ever want to call a battle. ones own sanity or happiness shouldn’t be as difficult to win over as a battle. if it gets that hard, that’s life’s way of telling me to stop for a minute. just a minute. that’s all it really takes. in the car, on the way to a friend’s house or a rehearsal or a recording session or a gig or just to town to get coffee or tea. stop. pull the car over. stop walking towards your destination, for just a minute. the one minute you take will not adversely affect your impending appointment the way it will dramatically help you put everything in perspective.

i wrote a song recently called “slow down”… before any of this life stuff piled up this week. i wrote the song a few months ago. how perfect that i should write something, originally as advice for a friend of mine, that i can listen to and benefit from. the chorus is simply:

“i hope that she learns to slow down/she’s going too fast to look down/i have learned over and over again/that it’s always the same/i hope that she learns to slow down”

so tomorrow, i look forward to a day where i can appreciate what i do rather than rush in and out of it like a job. it’s a blessing.