Taking the Long Way Home

A New Lease on Life (and Property) & The Journey Ahead

Hi-ho, Travelers. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

How have y’all been? You all look fabulous, by the way….Me? Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking!

...Wait, scratch that. I’m not ‘fine’ ––– I’m actually really, really good. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I actually mean that.

There are many paths to choose from when navigating the unpredictable terrain that life lays in front of us. Many legs of the journey are pleasant and easily traversed – these are the moments that make the whole trek worthwhile. Some parts are thick and thorny, rigged with obstacles that are inescapably difficult to overcome, while others give warning of possible danger farther down time’s highway, allowing us to shift routes and avoid future turmoil. Unfortunately, these decisions are the most challenging to make, and making the right choices – the ones that benefit us in the long run – often come at a cost. It’s as if life collects our loss and suffering as tolls as we motor through existence, as it is through pain that we seem to travel the farthest down the road of our own self-discovery. But there is one avenue that never seems to tax us, one conduit that feels easy and free. I’m talking about the path that leads us to where we feel whole, the trail that brings us to where we truly belong: the road that guides the way home.

I’ve had many homes in my life. In my youth, I had my mother’s one house, and the four my father occupied. As an adult, I’ve called many things home—three cities, two vehicles, a half-dozen apartments. The concept of home manifests itself uniquely for each individual. For me, it isn’t about my hometown, or where my parents live, or where my ancestors came from. Home, to me, is where I’ve been headed my whole life. The thing I’ve been searching for since I left Connecticut over a decade ago. The place I’m supposed to be; the feeling I have chased tirelessly throughout my thirty years on Earth – and I feel I may have finally found it.

When I moved to California four years ago, I knew in my heart that I was never going to leave. In fact, I had decided long before then that I was going to end up in San Francisco and nothing was going to stand in my way. I was going to become the best version of my truest, most authentic self, invincible to things like rent hikes, unemployment, and personal crisis.

But as it turns out, these things were still lurking, despite my halo of golden sunshine and impenetrable cloak of temperate weather, medical marijuana and eclectic fine dining options. Not even California could save me from manipulation, heartbreak, and deception, as all three eventually found my sunny Oakland address and solicited my weary soul to its ultimate exhaustion. A holiday trip to Florida last December turned into a two-month sabbatical from California, which brought about a week-long drive from Florida to Vermont. It was then that I rediscovered Asheville, North Carolina, and it was then – though unbeknownst to me – that I decided to leave California – for good – for the quiet mystique of the Smoky Mountains.

"I was going to become the best version of my truest, most authentic self, invincible to things like rent hikes, unemployment, and personal crisis."

It wasn’t an easy decision to abandon my dreams of California, but the ghosts that haunt that place are still far too vivid, their eerie wails still much too audible for me to even consider returning there to live. It is clear to me that, for now at least, California is no longer my home.

But there is unexpected peace in the mountains, a peace I never thought I would find. Peace is not something that has ever come naturally to me; in fact, I have often felt mocked by its prospect, just as a mirage mocks a thirsty traveler. But, out of nowhere, this harmony beckoned through the branches, singing to me. I followed its song through the woods, and almost by accident, I found what I had been searching for my whole life.

So I’m starting a new chapter in my life, which means a new chapter for Stage Traveler. I will have a new home base in Asheville, which will not only position me in a region with plentiful access to live music but will put me within closer reach of my family and friends, who are predominantly located on the East Coast. And when ST breaks into a more global, international market and audience, being close to Charlotte and Atlanta will make flying to Europe a breeze. Plus, I will finally be able to afford a place that suits my needs for space, for study, and for simplicity. The next set of paths are untouched, the next few pages of my life are blank and are aching with potential. It’s terrifying, but in the best way possible.

I’m kicking off this whole new adventure with a two week “quest” around the southeastern US, stopping at both the essential South by Southwest in Austin, TX, and the innovative Big Ears Festival in Knoxville, TN…along with a few other gems along the way. Check out my whole itinerary to the right For the occasion, I have compiled a playlist devoted to the word ‘home’ and its many connotations, as it means something different for each and every one of us. Some songs are about returning home, others about escaping from it, others still about searching for it in all the wrong places. Regardless of each unique approach to home, it is presented as a vital, magnetic entity capable of invoking the strongest of emotions. May these fifty songs guide you on your journey home – wherever, whatever, and/or whomever that may be – or perhaps even just inspire you to take those first few steps.

I look forward to this upcoming journey and the many that lie ahead, and also think of the journeys I have taken in the past that brought me to where I am right now, sitting in a creaky armchair in South Carolina, writing this to you all. I have clocked almost a half-a-million miles and at least twice as many memories, and I am gassed up and ready to hit the road for more. I am especially fond of the adventures that ended up bringing me to a place altogether different than originally expected – these are the passages that keep us on our toes and remind us of the remarkable chaos that the universe is capable of. That week-long drive six weeks ago brought me through North Carolina as I was on my way to a place I used to call home, and instead brought me to the place I was meant to be all along. Destiny hummed through the peaks and the mist, and by listening to its sweet serenade, I was brought back to life. Through a chance encounter in a beautiful place with a beautiful stranger, I was given new purpose. The stranger is a stranger no more, and he, along with that beautiful place, is now what I call home.

There is joy in the unknown. Go seek your path home, Travelers, and don’t be afraid.