I’ve been thinking about Sense of Place, lately.
I spent most of the last year on the road, windows down, music up, hair blowing, seeing new stuff. Connected to nothing but the zen of the journey itself. Seeing many places and things I never had. Tofino. Cathedral Grove. Kitsilano. A bear in Jasper. 4 trips across the Prairies. The hoserlicious pleasures of Northern Ontario. Fi’ n’ chi’ at the Ship. On and on.
But it’s time to siddown. I have songs scratching at the windows to get out. I need to reconnect with my back yard. I wanna spend time in a kayak. I am gonna have a beachbum summer.
Enter Shawna Caspi.
She called up recently, and said, ‘So if a girl were to find her way into a plane ticket, ya think, there might be some shows to be booked?’
I booked it to show my buddy around a bit. We’re calling it the She Came On A Whim And Couldn’t Go Home Tour. We played The Scuttlebutt in Lunenburg last night. What a wicked little place. Wolfville tonight, Tatamagouche Thursday, Shelburne Friday, Halifax on Saturday. Then I’m off to Thunder Bay, Winnipeg, and Toronto, but that’s about the extent of my touring plan. I think you’re gonna have a sense of whatever place is home, of course, and no place is really better than another. But as Denis Ryan says, one of the great things about our job is that it has more than its fair share of homecomings. If anyplace will fill my well again, this is it.