November 12, 2026 — Chattanooga, Tennessee

I left Baxter this morning and set sail for Chattanooga. That’s what driving the van feels like sometimes: setting sail.

On the way, I kept thinking about the balance between work and music. When I get into work mode, my brain is there, focused. Music is different. I want to stay connected to it, to keep noticing things and letting songs develop. You can’t always switch that on and off.

But today reminded me that both parts of my life matter. After arriving, I went exploring by bicycle, found a bike shop just as I needed one, and followed the owner’s recommendation to another shop. Nearby was a beautiful café, where I spent a few hours working with my team. And it felt good. I felt useful. I care about this company, and being present matters to me.

I also crossed the Walnut Street Bridge and took in a little of the city. But the evening was where the day really opened up.

An outdoor movie was the original idea. Instead, after a beer at a brewery, I moved on to Barlery for live music. The scheduled singer couldn’t perform, so they were having an open mic. The next slot was free. Suddenly, I was playing my own songs to people who were listening.

How good is that?

Watch the live video from my open-mic performance at Barlery on Facebook

Afterward, Paul suggested Cherry Street Tavern. There I met Jody, a musician with a dog tucked into his shirt, who offered to connect me with friends in Beaumont, Texas, when my travels take me there.

Then I met Gaetan—Gaetano in Italian, or Nino, as some Italians had apparently told him. A lovely, knowledgeable guy who took me deep into the Fisher King, the Holy Grail, and archetypes of renewal. The king is sick, the kingdom is becoming a wasteland, and we need a new king. Except you’re not the king. You’re his helper. Or something like that. At first, I thought perhaps life was sending me an important message. After a while, I was mostly trying to work out who was in charge of this kingdom. He kept circling back, clearly trying to explain something that mattered to him. I couldn’t quite follow, and I wasn’t entirely sure he could either. A good guy, a little lost. By then, so were the story and I.

I feel fortunate: I’ve done my duties, and now I have the health and freedom to explore, to make music, to be myself.

Back in the van, the empty street felt a little unsettling. Tomorrow, the Smoky Mountains, and some time in nature before Saturday’s show in Etowah.

Today seemed to confirm something I’m learning: you don’t find the right place. You make the place right.

And the more I follow the flow without overthinking it, the better I feel.