Lately, I've been struggling with the idea of home-- feeling torn between leaving places and never feeling completely settled. Everything's temporary. Like John Fogerty, I've got a travelin' bone. Over the past few weeks I've spent time mixing it up with the people I love, getting into it, rocking out, and making many new friends. It's not just my brother band members, it's the brothers, sisters, strangers, and landscapes I find myself surrounded by when we're working together to create something bigger than any of us-- these make me feel warm, like home. We create a dynamic energy, even if it’s negative, by working together, by getting close, being real, by loving deeply.

After spending some time in NYC, we headed back to Fillmore and our studio, Big Orange. It’s hard to not get caught up in nostalgia when we return to the places the band first started making music. I know Patrick feels the same way. A couple of months ago, we sold the RV we toured in (what was left of it) at auction. Two days ago, my parents decided to close the diner I managed and Navar practiced in for so many years. Memories were made in these places as we fumbled through songs, memories that are stronger than other adult memories. Memories forged by music. Maybe that’s why, as I watch these places drift away, deteriorate, I realize that it’s the music that connects me to something greater, something (although it seems cliché) spiritual. Maybe like the painted wooden sign that hangs in my mother’s computer room reads, home is where your story begins. So, here’s to our next story, wherever it may begin.