You know, it's funny how life on tour can be both exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. The rush of performing, the adrenaline of being on stage—with on stage, I mean being in the centre of the venue delivering the audience a performance. I see myself as an artist delivering the fans the sound experience of their life, the constant movement from one city to another—it's a whirlwind that's hard to describe. But when the tour is over and I step back into my own space, that's when it hits me—a deep emptiness and loneliness that's hard to shake off.
It's like coming back to a place that should feel like home, but it doesn't. The familiarity is there, but the connection is missing. That's when the yearning for a private life, away from the constant spotlight, kicks in. I find myself craving the thrill of exploring new places, meeting new faces, and living out of my trusty suitcase—just like when I'm on tour. Hotels, you know, they become a strange sort of comfort. They remind me of those nights on the road, where each hotel room was a temporary sanctuary. It's like I carry a piece of that tour life with me, even when I'm back home. And yet, there's that struggle to create a real sense of belonging, a true home that doesn't feel so empty. But I've come to realise that this transition takes time—a detox of sorts. It's not easy to switch from the fast-paced energy of the stage to the quiet solitude of everyday life. It's a process of finding my footing again, of reconnecting with the people who matter and rediscovering the things that bring me joy beyond the music.
https://www.amazon.com/Years-Tour-Howard-L-M-Heckers/dp/B0DND43XGG