There is a movement.
Tomorrow will be the start of Windwood Music Festival. And it's been a longgg month for Tong and I, but this whole time, for a while now actually, I've been struck a thought. Bear with me.
There is a movement. It’s hard to name, but you can feel it. A movement from the bottom up, not top down. A movement by individuals, for individuals, for lands and waters and mountains and all in between. Coming from a place of love — deep love and care.
Us musicians, everything that we do comes from a place of deep love. We feel deeply so that we may give honestly, from a place of empathy and vulnerability. That mindset is what we have to offer, the mindset that permeates our art, that permeates our being.
We want to be a part of that movement, because it is so important and because it is so in line with what we already do as artists. Outside of the most basic reason that the soul wants to—NEEDS to— create, to communicate and share and feel a sense of community, what we do is important because that mindset of love and vulnerability is such a basic part of what it takes to truly be a musician. Diligence, work ethic, patience, perseverance, these are the admirable qualities and traits that are focused on, and indeed they are beyond importance. But that love, the vulnerability, the chaotic need to reach people and touch them and say “you’re not alone, I’m here too,” that need for kindness and the threads that tie a community together, that’s what is needed to be a musician. To be human in fact. It’s the things that make us the best versions of ourselves.
There is a movement. And musicians shouldn’t fool themselves into thinking there’s no place for us in it. After all, we’re in a practice room so much, a small window that can be a refuge from a world of strife. But we have as much to give in this movement as anyone. Connect with your land. Your people. Strangers. Anything that needs healing, anything that gives you healing. You are capable and needed just as you are. Your spirit, that same spirit you pour into your music. Pour it into threads that link people and land in acts of radical kindness, chaotic and reckless love. Pour it into places and people that need their voices emboldened. Pour it into yourself when you need rest. This movement, the energy that it embodies, needs more of you.